Thank you, thank you to willabeth 0906, shewhoshallwrite, AKA Parfait, master of time, Nicole Kazan, Telcontar Rulz, Wills_Elizabeth23, and lynxlan for the reviews! You all made my day!
Anonymous Reviewer Replies:
AKA Parfait: Thanks very much for the review! I know...that was a particularly bad one. But I hope this longer chapter will make up for it!
master of time: Thanks very much for the review! Its perfectly alright. In fact, I've got a TV show that I'm rather irritated with. My favorite character has shown some darker tendencies...but, it'll be okay. I'm really glad you're enjoyed the last two chapters!
Wills_Elizabeth23: Thanks very much for the review! Yes, indeed. Elizabeth hasn't been thinking very clearly for a few chapters so it's good indeed that Will was still somewhat lucid. :) It's amazing what happens when you realize that you could lose somewhat one you care about. Several of your questions will be answered in this chapter. And this chapter also has a healthy dose of Willabeth comfort.
Chapter 25: Chess Games
Jack and Elaine were making no process in navigating the dizzying passageways. Each one they tried sent them on a mind-boggling trek and often ended either with a dead end or right back where they started.
"Oi, this is bloody unhelpful." Jack muttered as they turned from yet another closed off tunnel.
"We try the left next time." Elaine gathered a fist full of skirt in her hand and traipsed up the sloping path, Jack tagging along behind her like a little lost puppy.
The cool air had turned muggy and the pair fought to keep their breathing even in the excessive heat as they continued on their beaten trail.
Jack couldn't help the furtive thought that tunnels were supposed to be cold and lovely and filled with things like rum. He desperately wished for a bit of rum just now. Just a sip, a smidgen, a trifling drop!
An audience of barmaids would be good, too, he decided. They would fritter away his hurts and listen, with wide eyes and baited breath, to his latest bout with ole' danger and despair, all the while supplying him with all the rum he could stomach.
"You know," he mentioned, throwing his hands about like a pair of lovesick doves, each trying to catch the other. "I've been told...when in doubt…to follow one's nose…and as I 'appen to 'ave a very fine one of them…how's 'bout I pick the tunnel next?"
"You think you can do better? Fine." Elaine placed her hands on her hips crossly and let out a puff of air to loosen the hair that had caught on her damp forehead. "You pick now."
"My intuitive sense and knowledge of the underground labyrinths, such as this one, would reveal that the…left tunnel would be the most correct choice in our current predicament." He grinned his infamous grin that made wenches swoon time and time again and was incredibly put out to see that Elaine's attention had already swept on to the tunnel he'd pointed out.
No matter. They'd be out of this stuffy place in no time. And quicker than you could say lickety-split he'd be lounging in his favorite tavern.
Matching her determined pace with his own, he pumped his arms faster and sauntered out ahead, for how was this excursion to succeed without him to lead it? A sharp corner was approaching and Jack was pleased to discover a whiff of fresh air.
Elaine murmured something softly in French and her steps quickened.
Jack, too, put on a fresh bout of speed and came around the corner about four paces before her, screeching to a halt.
"Sorry, mates, wrong tunnel." He swerved but a large hand came down on his collar. "A thousand 'pologies." He bowed penitently.
The grip didn't loosen and Jack was forced to face a room with five burly men crowded around a table littered with cards. Grim expressions were on their faces as they stood and moved forward menacingly.
"Oh, hello." He offered a little wave.
The frowns in the tanned faces became more prominent.
He heard a soft gasp and in a moment Elaine was hauled up next to him.
"Got us a couple of snipes, 'ave we?" The tallest man snarled, his thin lips moving over a set of rotting teeth.
"Looks like it." The brute behind Jack returned. His tone was considerably lower and rumbled with strength.
"Boss'll want to see them." The first man threw up his feet onto the table, laced his thin fingers together, and leveled a questioning on all of his mates. "Well, which of one of you is gonna do it?"
"You mean, leave the tunnels? To show boss a pair of weasels that's been sneakin' who knows where? Not me! I've 'aven't got no deaf-wish! I's 'ave a whole life of ahead of meself. Side's I 'aven't even collected me dues from Ricky! He owes me two pounds, ya know!" A man with sparse hair and a voice that was the polar opposite from Jack's brute said, scooting back into his rickety chair.
"Tyke, you go." The first man ordered.
"Not without something from you."
"And what would you be wantin' from me?" He held out two empty palms in a gesture of arrogant innocence but even a simpleton could see by the wide smirk that he did indeed have some possession of the brute's.
"My lucky rabbit's foot. Give it back and I take the rats to the boss."
"Done."
The furry appendage was thrown across the room, assured of its authenticity, and then, Elaine and Jack were being pushed down a whole new set of tunnels to an unknown destination.
The first thing Elizabeth felt was a large object that smelt of blood and saltwater lying across her bulging stomach. Shifting, she discovered that the object was in fact, Will.
She bolted forward and gently eased him into a more comfortable position before trying to make out anything in the consuming darkness.
Will moaned softly in pain and stirred.
She whispered a few words of comfort and began running her fingers along the smooth wall. It was dry and oddly crumbly. Her nose was filled with a pungent earthy scent and finally the wall's state of disrepair made sense.
They were in an underground tunnel.
As she investigated the area her hands bumped into a cool piece of metal protruding from the earthen wall. A moment more and she discovered that the twisted metal was actually a torch sconce. It was unlit and ready for service.
She fumbled for a bit longer and, after taking the flint stowed carefully in a niche next to the torch, light sprang to life. It was revealed that they were, indeed, in a tunnel, one with torches lining the smooth, dirt walls in intervals, waiting to be lit.
Celia and Mariel were lying in a heap a few yards away and as Elizabeth lit a second torch they straightened, faces glowing with apprehension in the flickering warmth.
"Where are we?" Celia asked softly, as if the walls might move in on them if they made too much noise.
"I don't know. Underground, at least." Elizabeth stroked her belly absently and moved back in front of Will. Her finger's brushed his temple and fresh tears stung her eyelids.
He had suffered so much. And she didn't even know the half of it.
Time seemed irrelevant as she sat watching over her sleeping husband. A tender smile crossed her lips briefly as the image of a much younger Will as she taught him to play chess…
"No, no, Will, you mustn't move your knight like that. It's positively dreary!" Elizabeth fluttered a pale hand in exasperation at the board before them.
His dark, expression filled eyes met hers, mortified at what he perceived to be another mistake. "Did I do something wrong? Should I move somewhere else? I didn't think your pawns were in reach-"
"No, no, none of my pieces can touch yours. Don't fret over that. It's simply that…"
He turned his head to the side in confusion. "Simply what?"
"Well, it's just that…why make such a safe move when one could risk things?" Elizabeth's breath quickened at the very thought. Perhaps that was what excited her so about pirates. "Move the bishop and you could have a clean shot at my King."
"Miss Swann…"
"Elizabeth," She replied firmly. "Miss Swann sounds so old and stuffy. I am only twelve, you know."
"Very well, but I still don't understand why my move was unwise. I've looked over this board dozens of times and it still seems like the most sensible choice."
"But don't you wish to take a chance? A risk?" She leaned forward, her eyes widening, and her hands tightly gripping the table's woodwork.
Will shook his head decidedly, lips pressed tightly together. "I don't believe in heading for disaster. When something is out of reach it is foolish to chase after it."
"Where is your sense of adventure?" She teased.
"Adventure is meant for your pirate books. Not for ordinary people."
"Don't you even like to think of what it might be like to have a dream come true?"
He gave an apathetic, little shake of his head and his eyes fell back to the chess board.
"Oh, come now, you must have something that you dream to have all your own."
He was silent for a long moment and Elizabeth thought briefly that he hadn't heard her. His voice was quiet and his gaze refused to meet hers as he finally spoke.
"Something." He paused before quickly amending his statement with, "But it is foolish.""No dream is foolish, Will. That is why they're called dreams because no one can tell you that they're impossible."
"That was very well put."
"My mother used to tell me that." She noticed the misery etching itself over Will's features and continued. "Besides, I hope your dream comes true and with two dreaming together the odds are much better."
A strange expression flew over his face before he smiled brightly, if a tad strained, and Elizabeth couldn't help thinking that he didn't really believe her.
"It's your turn, Elizabeth."
The use of her name cut off the comment she'd been about to voice and instead, she turned her attention back to the chess pieces.
The memory faded and the pain in Elizabeth's heart multiplied tenfold. She had been the one to encourage Will to take risks and now he lay before her bloodied and bruised all because he had taken a chance.
Elizabeth's reflections were broken by a timid interjection from Mariel. "Madame? We've found a room."
"A room?" Elizabeth hadn't even been aware that they had left her. "Where?"
"It's just around that corner." Mariel pointed farther down the narrow tunnel. "It has clean linens and a salve of some kind."
"What? Why on earth would that be here?" Elizabeth got to her feet, brow furrowed.
"I do not know. But I've brought you some of it." She placed a small pot in Elizabeth's hands.
Elizabeth smelled it cautiously, expecting some vile odor to fill her senses. No, it smelled quite nice actually, strong but not unpleasant. A bit of aloe perhaps…something else…opium, maybe? She wrinkled her nose at another pungent whiff.
"This is a painkilling mixture." Mariel offered, her quick fingers dipping into the jar and showing its mild green color. "We used to make them for mother." She caught Elizabeth's discomfort at the potency. "Do not worry. That is burdock root you smell. It's harmless and very good for wounds."
"But why would this be down here?"
"This is a pirate's lair, no?"
"Yes."
"They get hurt often." Mariel shrugged.
"Yes," Elizabeth's heart beat a little faster. "Yes, and Jones' men did have these strange cuts along their backs…"
"As punishment, perhaps?"
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes falling on Will.
"Could you use it…for Monsieur Turner? There are long strips of clean linen as well."
The young mother-to-be turned back to her French companion, a true smile gracing her features. "Yes, I believe we could."
It took several minutes but with Mariel and Celia both working at a fast pace, Elizabeth was soon provided with a good amount of clean bandages and three round pots of the salve.
"Alright," Elizabeth passed a hand over her forehead. "His overcoat and shirt need to be removed." Huffing and puffing, the three of them managed to strip the offending garments away and roll their patient onto his stomach.
Elizabeth's blood froze when his back came into view. "What…" she whispered hoarsely. "What is that?"
Will's back was torn and bloodied almost beyond recognition. Most of the crimson blood had dried and the edges of the long wounds had begun to heal but at their center they could only be torture to endure.
"He was punished unfairly, Madame." Celia's words were infused with comfort and a gentle hand brushed her shoulder.
All she could think, however, was her poor, darling Will and what he must have suffered. "Oh, Will."
"He was brave and strong. You would have been very proud of him."
And Elizabeth was, so very, very proud. No one should have had to gone through such torture and to think that her husband…
"Madame? We must clean the wounds or they will fester…"
"Yes, yes." Elizabeth's eyes were damp and her hands trembled but Will needed her. He needed her to be strong and she would be.
The trio bent forward and their work to save Will began.
The last rays of the day were tucking themselves away when Hawthorne stood in the halfway up Alabanza Vacia's summit. He was currently bent over a crude sketch of the city's layout and his aides stood nearby to relay orders.
"Captain!"
Hawthorne rolled his eyes and whirled on the unfortunate soul. Were all the men under his command inept? Couldn't they see that he was busy? "What?!"
"We've found Sparrow," the infantry man's voice trembled at his superior's expression and he added, as if offering an olive branch, "sir."
"And? Is there anyone with him?"
"Aye, sir."
"Well, who was it?"
"One of the French maids."
At first, Hawthorne felt like giving this measly soldier a piece of his mind for interrupting him with that shred of worthless information until he realized something. Turner had escaped with the French girls… "Wait," he lifted a hand to stay the man's retreat. "One of the French girls?"
"Aye, sir."
"Where were they found?"
The soldier shook his head helplessly. "Jones wouldn't say."
"You mean to tell me that a lying, thieving, cheating scum bag pirate wouldn't tell you where they were found and you just let him get away with it?"
The soldier gulped, and rightly so, for Hawthorne was advancing on him like a vengeful demon, each great step promising retribution.
"You thick-headed numbskull!" he seized the soldier's collar and shook it until the younger man's teeth rattled, roaring, "Turner was with the French girls so obviously they are where he is! To anyone with two bits of sense, that would mean that where they found Sparrow is undoubtedly where they will find Turner!"
TBC...