Many, many thanks to shewhoshallwrite, Calenlass Greenleaf1, willabeth0906, Telcontar Rulz, Smithy, sweetmissbean, AKA Parfait, Wills_Elizabeth23, and BloomBabyGirl for the wonderful reviews! It is such an encouragement to know that people are reading and enjoying this story! :D

Anonymous Reviewer Replies:

Smithy: Thank you so much for the review! :) I'm afraid I can't say much more or I'll give away the chapter. So, enjoy!

Wills_Elizabeth23: Thanks very much for the review! Yay! You liked the chapter! And I'm afraid this chapter has more packed in it than the last, perhaps even too much...anyway, enjoy!

BloomBabyGirl: Thanks very much! I'm glad to have you along! :)

Chapter 28: Eye of the Storm

"No!" Will lunged forward but two men caught him by the arms, still bound firmly behind him. "Let her go!"

"Turner, I won't be able to do that until you've paid me." Hawthorne began to walk down the stairway, each step an echoing 'thump'. "And the debt you've worked up is considerable."

"Debt?" Will's brow crinkled. "What debt?"

"A man's reputation is volatile thing, wouldn't you agree?"

"If this is about money take what you want, any of it, all of it! Just don't hurt Elizabeth."

Hawthorne stepped to the main deck with a thump. "Oh, this isn't about money Turner. This is something between you and me. Someone needs to show you your place in life." He circled Will like a wolf taunting its victim, "and your station in life, Turner, is a low one. You are a tradesman, a blacksmith. In the great lay of things, you are a speck.

"Your pride needs to be lowered a few notches. A marriage to a governor's daughter is hardly a premise for that haughty insubordination you've been flaunting."

"What do you want?" Will ground out, taking no pains to disguise the hate that burned in him for this man that dare threaten his family.

"I want you to feel pain." Hawthorne snarled. "I want to see you grovel before me like the piece of grime you are."

"Leave Elizabeth out of this and I'll do anything you want."

Elizabeth's heart plummeted to her ankles. No! Don't do this, Will, she wanted to cry out but she couldn't. There was nothing she could do but watch, watch and pray.

"Fight me." Hawthorne took a pace back and withdrew his sword, the lightning flashing off the blade like white fire. "I've heard much of your skill with a blade. Let us see if the stories are true."

"What about Elizabeth?"

"I'll make you a deal, Turner, since I'm such a generous man. You defeat me and she goes free, unharmed and with provisions. I defeat you and well…I do hope she likes living as a slave."

Elizabeth wrenched herself free for an instant. The words thrumming in her head bursting through her cold lips. "Will, no!"

His deep brown eyes caught hers for a moment and then they flicked to Hawthorne, narrowing in dark resolve. "And if I refuse to fight?"

"I wonder how long it would take her to scream." Hawthorne smiled wickedly and left the rest to Will's imagination.

Will's answer was almost instantaneous. "Give me a sword."

"Excellent." Hawthorne signaled to the soldiers. They approached Will, threw a sword down a few yards away, and cut his bonds. Muttering derisively, they shoved him to his knees and stalked away.

Will leaned forward and gently lifted the blade they'd given him. It was notched and well used but the balance was good and the handle was smooth in his palm. He looked up and saw Hawthorne standing on the opposite side of the ship, triumph and eager bloodlust in his stance.

Slowly pulling himself up, Will clutched the sword tighter. He sent Elizabeth a swift glance, smiling reassuringly at her and trying not to see the bruise near her temple and the tears sparkling on her cheeks.

Then, with a deep breath, he faced his opponent, drawing on his last vestiges of strength for the fight that would either save his family or doom it.

Don't you count me
Out 'cause I've fallen
Out 'cause I've fallen down
I have landed
Down on my knees, oh
Down on my knees again
This is where I'll find the strength to carry on
This is where I'll find the strength to stand

I'm gonna be the last one standing
Fighting for something much bigger than me
I'm gonna be the last one standing here
Last One Standing

By MercyMe

The two fought as men from the great tales of the past. Cold steel flashed like the lightning splitting across the inky sky, illuminating the combatants' set expressions.

All that could be heard was the rumble of thunder, shaking even the core of the ship with each roar, the crack of lighting, the pouring rain, and the clash of metal. All those watching dared to breathe.

Icy, pale blue light struck the sky, revealing the hard, sadistic black eyes of one and the determined, passionate deep brown of another.

They were great and feral lions caught in a battle to define their very selves. Leaping and twisting, they exchanged bright flashes of metal. Their dark coats melted into the obsidian sky even as the frigid rain melded with the blood staining one lion.

Elizabeth couldn't have torn her gaze away from the fight if her life had depended on it. Everything ached when she thought of what might happen if Will lost. He would be hurt. And she could do nothing but watch it happen, tearing her apart from the inside.

Her eyes were glued to the form of her husband and each deft move he made. She knew deep in her bones that Will was becoming more and more sluggish with every spent in the dusty, cool blacksmith shop had shown her his style, his tendencies, his power. His skill was almost nonexistent in the overwhelming tide of his wounds. His parries were sloppy and his attacks carried no muscle behind them.

Hawthorne easily swept them aside. While Will's face was gaunt and his chest heaved for air, Hawthorne was breathing easily; his eyes were alight with the thrill of combat.

Elizabeth saw Hawthorne's lips move but the storm swallowed the words. Will's face tensed and he attacked with a fresh bout of strength. Hawthorne darted back and threw two more taunts out, grinning madly when Will's eyes darkened.

A crew member must have caught the words as well for he laughed wickedly and threw a rope out to catch Will's ankle. The cruel action did its work well, coiling around Will's booted foot. The burly man yanked on his line and Will was sent crashing to the deck. Immediately, Elizabeth's prayers began anew.

"They're making way!" Isaly slammed her palms into the wooden rail as she watched the Waking Power slip away into the pouring rain and darkness. "Those filthy curs are making way!"

"Miss?"

She turned on the fool that interrupted her with all the wrath that ripped through her veins. "What?"

"Jones, ma'am, he's been knocked out."

Isaly's eyes flicked behind the idiot to see two more lackeys bearing Jones' heavy weight between them like a sack of flour. That meant she was in control of all his men. They would not contest her. They knew better.

A slow grin spread over her face, and the hunger that had been smoldering inside her for the Waking Power ignited to flame. "Get me the Pearl's crew. We plan an attack."

Will's anger was mounting. He knew full-well that Hawthorne was baiting him, wearying him with taunts and harmless attacks. He also knew that his emotions could not preside over logic, not in a battle with such high stakes.

Rolling to the side and wincing at the pain it sent up his torso, he slid along the deck, sliced the rope that had captured his ankle neatly, and spun up to his feet. His vision swam and his head pounded fiercely but the move was worth the pain.

Hawthorne's face had reddened in frustration and he was walking forward with an aura that promised conquest. He raised his sword and gave Will only an instant to respond.

And Will did. The blades met with a fierce 'clang'. They sliced away and Hawthorne flew in a series of neat cuts and blows, all avidly fueled. "Impressive, Turner, I must say."

Will's attention was consumed with defending the array of assaults leaving him with no verbal response. But even if he had one, he knew better than to waste precious breath.

"But I'm afraid you will have to do better than this to keep your wife." Hawthorne twisted his blade up and caught Will's left shoulder.

The pain was terrible. Will drew back, clutching at the new wound.

"And they said you were a master…" Hawthorne grinned derisively and lunged again.

Their swords tangled and after a flurry of exchanges Hawthorne's taunting resumed. "Your wife looks concerned, Turner."

Will pointedly drowned the biting words from his mind. He had to focus. He couldn't afford to lose control. Elizabeth and the baby were counting on him.

Hawthorne threw down two hard blows before their blades locked and Will was forced to face the man that had caused so much trouble and grief. The lightning flashed in the captain's eyes and the lurid glaze there sent shivers up Will's spine. "How did you ever persuade a lovely little thing like her to marry someone like you? Was it by force?"

Will's teeth gritted and he wrenched hard to the side but failed in freeing his sword.

"I wonder…perhaps she'd rather become my wife."

That was it. Will's anger surged forward, breaking all metal restraints and barriers. It gushed out, spilling over his weary muscles and gifting him with fresh strength. "You won't touch her!" he bellowed, and after a fierce blow to Hawthorne's face, Will's sword was loose.

Surprise filled Hawthorne's features for an instant before his lips curled in response to his own hot temper. He leaned over and spat out the blood that had filled mouth. "A tender point, hmm?"

"You are a monster." Will snarled, lunging towards the captain in one of the hardest attacks he'd ever mustered.

"Your wife said the very same thing. Before she found out what you are. What you've done." Hawthorne's face showed no strain but his breathing had become harsh and his hand trembled.

"What I have done?!" Will struck hard on the left and followed with a swift uppercut. No matter how furious he was, no matter how impassioned he was, his physical limitations were prevalent. Slowly, they began to conquer the fire that filled his veins. His chest was aching horribly and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. "You were the one to tear me from my family, my home, everything I know."

"And I enjoyed every moment of it." Hawthorne threw a cruel blow to Will's stomach while their blades were crossed. The power behind it folded the blacksmith in half.

"Just as I'm enjoying this." Hawthorne's fist drove Will to his knees and a boot to the face sent him crashing to his back. Panting heavily, the captain stepped forward, brandishing his sword, washed clean in the rain.

Will's world was consumed with flames. Pain licked at his wounds like an overeager wolf. All he could see was gray. Roaring had filled his ears. Fumbling, he tried to stand and felt another blow drive him back to the wooden flooring. There was a sharp clang in the midst of the chaos and Will knew immediately that the sword had been knocked from his hand.

Prying his eyes open, he tried to make anything out in the confusion. In a whirl, the world slid back into focus. Hawthorne had seized his hair and was pulling him up, drawing back his sword for the killing blow.

"I wonder, Turner, will she weep when you're gone?" The voice slithered in his ear and Will matched the voice to Hawthorne's moving lips.

He vaguely realized that the sword was moving, moving towards him. He looked down and saw his own sword a few inches away from his limp fingers. He looked at Hawthorne, reading the triumph and loathing in his features. He looked at the crew, watching with mixed emotions. He looked at the three young girls who'd sheltered him. He looked at Jack and saw pity and deep sadness. He looked at Elizabeth, tears streaming down her face. He looked at her white knuckled hands that gripped the swell of her pregnant belly.

And suddenly, the world changed. Hawthorne's breath caught, his body stiffening, and he staggered back, his sword clattering to the deck. "What…" Blood spilled over his hands and stomach where a long sword was impaled, the hilt still in Will's hand.

Painfully, Will staggered to his feet, tightening his grip on the blade. "You hurt my family. That was your first and last mistake." He gave the weapon a vicious yank and Hawthorne collapsed. He blinked once and then his dark hateful eyes closed.

Will turned back to face the gaping crew, bloody sword in hand. In that moment he appeared almost otherworldly. The lightning behind his broad shoulders illuminated his chiseled features and his determined eyes. He was a tool of justice, a beacon of hope.

The crew shrank back, afraid if they twitched he'd consume them all in a vengeful torrent. But he didn't move.

His eyes sought out Elizabeth and when they found her they softened, a smile lighting the dark depths. "Elizabeth…" his voice was a whisper. He took one step before his legs gave out, his strength finally consumed, and he crumpled to the deck.

All the while lightning crackled, thunder roared, and the rain poured down in sheets, as if the heavens themselves knew of Will Turner's fate.

TBC...