Hah; a traitor's death to those dastardly exams. Now only the results shall return to haunt me… Thanks for everyone's support during my tests! I'm glad everyone liked the 'darker' chapters. I might throw a few more in from time to time, if it could be worked into the storyline without disrupting the flow of the plot, seeing as I got so much positive feedback ;)
NB: Keelhauling: the act of tying someone to a rope, then throwing them overboard, so that they fall underneath the ship. Some say the barnacles etc underneath the ship cut the person to ribbons, others accounts say the person comes out intact at the rear of the ship, with a few pints of water in their lungs.
Shake a leg: The saying originated when females regularly used to work and live on ships. Men begun work earlier in the morning, so to tell whether the people sleeping in the hammocks were men or women, they'd yell out to, 'shake a leg,' so they could see who to wake.
Avast: Halt; stop. I think I've explained every other foreign concept in the text of the chapter.
The sea shanty I've used is the 'Pirate Song' that was allegedly created and used by pirates.
Jack strode out onto the main deck of the Black Pearl, feeling the warm sun on his back and the scent of the sea on the breeze. He savoured the taste of it on his tongue, taking in a deep breath to relish the freedom, the beauty, the majesty of the sea, to take a peaceful moment to reflect on his life thus far and to,
"Man the yards; haul the sails, you scurvy dogs!" He bellowed, making the crew relaxing on deck jump to their feet. The remainder could be heard thundering up from below deck, anxious to please Jack. "Come on you lazy scallywags! You know the procedure. Shake a leg!" Jack bellowed, taking up his usual place by the wheel, his compass out and his hat tipped up, measuring the wind direction and speed.
"Bert, if you don't secure that flying jib and mainsail, you'll be the first soul on this voyage to experience a keelhauling, savvy?"
"Yessir." Bert replied ashamedly and hurriedly climbed the rigging. "Fosters, tie a knot like that again and you'll be cleaning the poop-deck for a week straight." Fosters attacked the knot with renewed vigour. "And Jones, attend to the lines on the gaffs." Jack finished.
"Which gaffs?" Asked Gilbert Jones, a new crew member, all lank and legs.
"Those gaffs!" Jack gestured impatiently, throwing both arms in the air irately and flailing them about. Jones interpreted Jack's actions as meaning he should attend to all the gaffs, and hurriedly saw to it.
"Smart man." Jack murmured under his breath. "He'll keep."
To the mast nail our flag, it is dark as the grave,
Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er wave;
Let our deck clear for action, our guns be prepared;
Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimitar bared:
Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.
It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear;
If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.
Unshared have we left our last victory's prey;
It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:
There are shawls that might suit a sultana's white neck,
And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck.
There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine
'Tis to drink to our victory - one cup of red wine.
Some fight, 'tis for riches - some fight, 'tis for fame:
The first I despise, and the last is a name.
I fight, 'tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,
At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.
I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
I only shed blood where another shed tears,
I come, as the lightning comes red from above,
O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love.
They'd barely put Britain to their rudder and lost sight of land when Jack suddenly turned on his heel and groaned. Grumpily he pulled a brass looking-scope out of the folds of his bottomless coat, extending it with a small huff of annoyance and pointing it west of the English coastline they'd just put to their rudder.
"Can't I even leave the mother-country before I get the royal treatment?" Jack lamented as another ship was spotted on the horizon. He sullenly passed the brass looking-scope over to Will, who immediately trained it on the looming ship. A Naval cutter – that's what Jack was complaining about. It seemed there was going to be trouble before Jack even got out of British waters.
"Don't you lay aboard, you mangy mongrels. Don't you even try it…" Jack growled, willing the cutter not to fall alongside of his ship, a common war tactic used by the navy to board an enemy vessel. He turned from gazing out to sea and addressed the apprehensive crew. "Who here doesn't know what a lavatory is?" Jack asked resignedly, as the naval cutter drew parallel with his precious ship. About half the crew, being as uncivilised and uneducated as they were, raised their hands warily. Will wondered what the pirate was up to now. "Right; you lot below deck and don't show your uncouth and improper faces until after the bloody military have gone home to their mothers. Dawkins, that means you. You haven't had a shower since King Edward walked this earth." Will laughed at Jack's ingenious way of determining whether a man looked respectable enough not to be questioned by a British Royal Officer.
"Avast!" Came the cry from the opposing ship.
"Here we go again." Muttered Jack to Will. "I know this speech by the book… Who goes there?" Jack called out monotonously.
"Admiral of Virginia, and commander of this ship." The young man yelled back. Jack merely waited until the ship drew level with him. Jack surveyed him carefully, cocking his head slightly to the side and squinting his kohl-smudged eyes. A small frown creased over his tanned forehead as he took in the officer's royal-blue coat – a colour forbidden to commoners by Queen Elizabeth's Sumptuary Laws and reserved for upper-class citizens.
Pirates - especially successful pirates - loved to flout these laws and dress in royal reds, purples and blues, purely to annoy the rest of the upper-class citizens who considered themselves above such middle-class society. But the pirates were never caught, as questioning another noble's heritage (as shaky as it be) was one of the most impolite and disrespectful crimes to commit. If one tried to prove that a pirate was in fact, a pirate and undeserving of such luxury, and the accusation was unfounded, the questioning noble could find himself stripped of his power and titles and forced to don commoner's apparel. Therefore, any suspicions were whispered and shared over the table, and pirate's integrity was never openly challenged.
Captains were notorious for dressing in opulence on a regular voyage, as they didn't have to worry about dirtying or ripping their fine silks on the ship's dangerous riggings. Jack, however, was an exception rather than a rule, choosing to dress in standard crew slops including his canvas doublet shirt, vest, simple trousers and ordinary leather bucket boots. The only articles that set him apart from the rest of his crew were his tricorn hat, red banana and gold trinkets winking in his hair and beard. And of course, failing that, his whole bearing and demeanour screamed; Pirate Captain.
"Good Admiral." Jack said, stressing the word and stiffly bowing in a mocking way, sweeping his captain's hat off his head to finish his elaborate display of submissiveness. Will noted the Jack didn't place his tricorn hat back on his head after he straightened up. Instead Jack held it slightly but subtly behind him as he resumed addressing the doubtful Admiral. "A bit young to be Admiral of this fine vessel, nay?" Jack inquired with false inquisitiveness. Will thought Jack was going to get himself prematurely shot, but the young man merely turned a bright pink colour, that flushed noticeably even under his sunburn.
"How dare you doubt a man of my integrity and standing!" The man challenged, but his heart wasn't in it.
"I'd like to believe you lad, but your stripes tell me otherwise." Jack remarked, pointing the hilt of his pistol at the young Admiral's sleeve, where his rank was depicted by a series of stripes and bars. "Rear Admiral. Very impressive." Jack noted sarcastically. The disgraced Rear Admiral looked slightly taken aback, until he realised Jack's pistol wasn't pointing at him. After realising he was in no immediate danger of being shot, he curled his lip, turned on his heel and disappeared into the cabins without so much as a word to Sparrow or his crew.
"Well done Captain." Congratulated McGaggen from the deck.
"Mind your Holystone and keep scrubbing the decks." Jack growled. "I have a feeling that we'll be working our way up through the ranks before we can depart from the navy's esteemed company." Sure enough, no sooner had the words left Jack's mouth than the Captain's door burst open and a short, wiry man strode out.
"Rawlish has just informed me that you scurvy scallywags have threatened him and the command of this royal vessel."
"Good day to you too, sir." Will voiced sarcastically. Jack shoved him roughly in the ribs to shut him up before they both got themselves prematurely shot. Not that it hadn't happened to Jack before, but in his opinion, every shot fired at you was a shot fired too early.
So next chapter: what happens to Jack and Will? Do they get themselves shot for impertinence? Can Jack talk his way out of this one? And where's Alex gone of too?
Thanks to DCoD, Kara Adar, Lonaargh, The GothyFaery and of course, Pebbles1234, whose reviews motivate me to write more and often.
DCoD – Thank-you :) The 'darker' side of this story was difficult to write, because I was afraid it wouldn't flow with the rest of the story, so thanks for reassuring me!
Kara Adar – I'm glad you like the 'darker' style. The next few chapters will be a bit lighter and more humorous, but I might put some darker undertones through it.
Lonaargh – The Drifting Maiden is definitely a ship you don't want to cross in a dark alley ;)
The GothyFaery – I really want the Drifting Maiden's figurehead too! (Apart from the fact it's pure evil) Hell, I want to whole ship!
Pebbles1234 – One day I'd like to be an author. When stories are printed and bound in a book, it seems so final, so permanent. In 100 years time, people can still pick up a book and read it; that's the beauty of it. Wow, it sounds like I'm a salesperson; 'Buy a book today!" (I'm a big fan of reading, for those who can't tell.)