"You, sir, are a cad," the woman sneered when she jumped away from me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Firstly, yes I am. Second, I expect some payment from all those aboard my ship," I grinned up at her. She was standing with her hand on her hips and looked ready to claw her fingernails through the freshly forming scar on my forearm.
She exhaled a haughty sounding, "Hmph" and then laughed at me. It was a bold laugh. She actually threw her head back. I sat up, thinking perhaps she was mad as well as talented with sharp objects. Not a good skill set from my point of view.
"Really, Sparrow? Do you take all of your crew to bed with you?"
I colored at her suggestion, realizing too late what my words had sounded like, "No, I meant," I stammered a beginning before letting the rest tumble from my lips in hurried succession, "they work for me, eh? What kind of work can you do?" I raised my eyebrows at the last, trying to regain a bit of control.
She tossed her head, red hair flipping from one dirty shoulder to the other, "Not the kind you're interested in. That is, not without a little of recompense in my direction, see? But, I'm a sufficient sailor. I'll work for you until we reach port."
I shook my head, rather annoyed at being bullied aboard my own ship, but I would hardly feel right about tossing her overboard, so I figured I might as well accept it. And, besides, I could use a good tup. It had been a long while since I was last in Tortuga. And I never did get a hold of a fine Spanish lady. "Fine, whatever. I'll take you Barbossa and he can fit you out some chores, eh? What shall I call you then?"
"My given name is Mary, but most folks call me Scarlett on the account of my hair," she said, with a noncommittal shrug.
I nodded, "Scarlett it is. Let's go and find my mate, eh?" I led the way onto the main deck to the first startled, then hungry stares of my crew. "Mates, this is Scarlett. She'll be working alongside you gents for the trip to New Providence, savvy?" I said, by way of explanation.
"Oh, great, Jack. Another charge for me to keep an eye on. As if the lot of you aren't already enough," Barbossa remarked from his position at the helm.
"It's Captain. And if you make that mistake once more, I swear I'll put you in the brig myself," Barbossa just stared as I made my little speech. I'd obviously been too easy on him. I made a mental note to follow through with my threat the next time.
Bootstrap stepped in my direction from his place on the forecastle, "I'll keep an eye on her, Cap'n," he offered with a sincere smile.
"Just give her some light work, eh Bill? And try to make sure the only part of your anatomy that you keep on her is your eye. And the rest of the crew, as well," I said as a quiet aside after I'd made the introductions. In a louder tone, I added for Scarlett's benefit, "I'll be in my cabin if you have a need, eh love?"
She had already seen it fit to dismiss me as a protector, and merely nodded. I bowed my head formally and went back to my cabin.
Apparently, she did have a need. She came to me directly after we dined late that evening. "Captain, I'd like to know if I could possibly sleep the night in your cabin? I can sleep on the floor, no problem." She looked mildly distressed for all of her earlier bluster.
I wasn't naive. I knew my crew wouldn't be able to contain themselves with such a pretty young thing in their midst, not even with Bootstrap watching over her. Hell, he'd probably have her first, besides. And with no madame to enforce the rules of such an engagement, she'd surely receive no payment.
"Of course. I'll rig you up a hammock, all right? Unless you care to share my bed?" I grinned down at her.
"Not without a little bit for my purse," she replied firmly.
"I might take you up on the offer," came my riposte.
She smiled up at me, cheekily, and placed her thin fingers on my lapels. "You know, if you work extra hard, I might be able to tell you a bit more about that captain you seek, eh Jack?"
"Jack, is it? Are we so familiar now?" I asked, tracing the narrow bone at her throat with my long forefinger.
"We will be," she answered as she slid my jacket over my shoulders. I winced as the fabric rubbed my shirt over my tattoo. She smiled up at me again, the peevish tattoo artist wholly replaced with a cordial whore. Whatever the act she put up, I thoroughly enjoyed this version better.
"Let me take care of that," she cooed before rising up onto her toes and sucking at my lower lip. She undid my waistcoat and divested my of that,as well as the coarse linen shirt. She ran her fingers over my bare chest, working her way nimbly down to my breeches. I stayed her with my own hands.
"Oh, no, love. This is going to last all night if you intend to share my bed," I spoke hoarsely against her ear, tracing the contours with my lips and tongue. She sighed loudly, letting her head fall back so I got a rather appetizing view of her small breasts straining against the thin cotton of her dress. I lifter her mouth to mine and walked her to my bed, never allowing contact to be broken.
I undid the buttons of her gown quickly, reveling in her experienced mouth and tongue as it worked on my throat and points south. Once I'd slipped the garment down, I saw she wore no shift and she was bare to the waist. I wasted no time before cupping her small firm breasts, lowering my head to graze one with my tongue before heading further down her torso.
I peeled the garment down her legs, letting it puddle at the foot of my bunk. I found my way back up her body to the apex of her legs and the small thatch of dark curls there. Her skin was so white where the sun had never touched her and the hair so red, I smiled at the contrast before dipping my head to take her willing slit into my mouth.
She gasped and grabbed my hair, tensing the instant my tongue touched her. Almost as suddenly, she relaxed beneath me, alternately squirming and thrusting against my lips. Not long after, she convulsed and simpered and few "Oh my gawds" and finally fell still. I raised up above her settled over her.
"You okay, love?" I asked, with a wide grin.
She smiled wanly, "You know I am. It's just that no man has ever – well, never done that for me," she laughed, "Perhaps you should join my line of work, eh, Captain?"
I winked at her, "Just working extra hard, Scarlett."
She nodded and pushed me back onto the bed and straddled me, "Well, Jack, if you'll let me do my job now, perhaps we can get to what I know," she smiled down at me, her eyes sincere and bright. I put my hands behind my head and grinned.
Not long into the morning watch, Scarlett lay beside me. We were both exhausted, but wakeful. She ran her hand over my chest, lightly tracing patterns. I felt them, more than saw them, and spoke up, "Why tattooing, love? Why not some artist famed across Europe?"
She answered nonchalantly, though I heard the darkness edging her words, "My family, you know. Not exactly the artist types."
"And by that, you mean not wealthy?" I ventured.
She shook her head to indicate the affirmative against my shoulder, "Right. So, I left home to find some honest work. And, I found the next best thing."
"Dishonest work," I filled in. I knew the subject quite well.
"Right," she laughed. Her laugh was so full-bodied and rich, it made me want to join in. She continued, "And, then I fell in with a man who taught me the trade. We moved to the Caribbean, and, well, you know the rest."
"So, that man you were apprenticed to was not a friend of your father's?" I asked.
"You are a quick one," came the retort.
"Aye, that's Captain Jack Sparrow for you. Nothing slips by me," I answered, jovially. She laughed again.
She continued, not without hint of sadness, "We were married. He'd taken me away from the life I hated and tried to reinvent one for me here," she shrugged again and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger, "But, you know, I'm a lot better off than most women in my position. I've got two trades under my belt, so to speak." I felt her grin against me and did the same.
"And the man who killed him?" I pressed.
I felt her tense against me and she rose onto her elbow before speaking, "Captain Phineas Bellamy. The description I gave you was accurate. He's ugly enough to scare the hide off of a horse, that one."
"Why give me his name? I mean to find a treasure and I know he knows where it is. What interest is it of yours?" I asked, fearful that she was steering me in the wrong direction, seeing that Barbossa seems to have been sure that the man was Kennedy.
"First, I figure you can probably kill him, or at least take away what he loves best: that blaméd treasure map. Second," she said with a slow grin, "I figure if you do find that treasure, mayhap you'll be a steady customer."
"Hell, love, if you can tell me more, I'll buy you a damned brothel and a tattoo parlor!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, Jack, 'I'll buy you' are my three favorite words in the English language!" came her rejoinder. I grinned at her.
"Well, now, what makes you so sure that he's this Bellamy fellow?" I asked.
"The harbor master was a good friend of Kandra's, he was my husband, mind you," she began. I nodded for her to continue, "Well, he knew Bellamy's ship, the Arianrod from the reports of others who's worked in Santiago. And, of course, Bellamy's face is practically legend all its own."
"He's really that ugly?" I couldn't help but ask.
She only nodded and shivered, as though the memory were enough to frighten her. "That man's face will haunt me so that even my children would have nightmares." She paused and cocked her head. "Not that I'll probably have children," she pondered, a far-off look glazing her eyes. I grimaced, slightly, but she picked up the thread of her tale without my having to intrude. "Well, anyway, like I said, I didn't see the tattoo. I was hiding. But, I can tell you that on the way out of the hut, he growled something at the boy that sounded like 'Nasser.'"
"Nassau?" I asked.
Scarlett nodded, "Yes, that was probably it. Nassau."
Of course, that's what they'd been calling New Providence for the last ten or so years. I'd always thought of it as New Providence, since that had been what Captain Kensington called it. My intuition to head there rather than to Tortuga had proven fruitful. That is, if we could track this man down. I should have noticed something was off when Barbossa had been so eager to share his information about Kennedy with me.
I reached up and traced a line from Scarlett's jaw to her navel, resting at every bump, nook and cranny along the way. I smiled at her and she threw a leg across my now-lively manhood.
"This'll cost you, Jack," she cooed in my ear as she ground against me.
"You drive a hard bargain, love," I answered as I found may way inside of her.
Her only answer was a lovely moan.
The following afternoon, Barbossa sighted New Providence. Scarlett came to find me in my cabin to report the good news and I followed her to the main deck.
"Pull her around starboard. We'll take her east. I think there's a little spit of land between Nassau port and Paradise Island. We can sight for any pirate ships from there and I'll decide whether or not to make for shore."
"Aye, Captain," came my first mate's dark reply. "Do you know what ship you're looking for?"
"What does Kennedy sail? Bart's old ship?" I asked.
"Aye, the Rover," came Barbossa's answer. The lying bastard.
"Then, we sight for the Rover, mates!" I called.
"Aye, aye, Cap'n," my crew answered.
Once we were tucked away behind the small cay on the north side of New Providence, I sighted pirate colors through my glass. A grand ship was beneath the Roger. I sincerely hoped she was the Arianrod.
"Bootstrap, and Scarlett. You two with me. We're going ashore."
"You don't wish me to come, Captain?" Barbossa asked, his accent falling a little too hard on my title. I smiled at him.
"No, Barbossa. You have a history with him, eh? I don't want us chased off the island at the sight of you," I explained. Not that I should have had to. But, I didn't want to risk him following me.
The young coxswain, Benjamin, readied the longboat as well as the bosun's chair for Scarlett. She just smiled at him and climbed down the ladder. I was about to follow her, but thought twice. "Come along, son, I'd like for you to stay with the boat in case we need to make a quick turn around, eh?" I asked.
He grinned and nodded eagerly, "Aye, aye, Cap'n Jack!" He went down before me and I went last.
Before I descended the ladder, I called out to Barbossa, "Keep a weather eye on the port for us to come back and be ready at a moment's notice to sail, eh? And you might want to consider dousing our colors, as well."
I boarded the boat, without waiting to hear Barbossa's answer. I was really beginning to consider having him put off of my ship. Perhaps I could pay him off, or maybe just demote him. I watched as our ensign was run down and thought that I'd worry about Barbossa after I'd found this new treasure.
As we pulled into the bustling port, I recognized several pirate flags, but I had a hard time locating the grand ship I'd seen from the Pearl. As we came closer ashore, I saw her.
The Arianrod was an enormous barqentine, obviously built for power over speed. She was probably half the length of the Black Pearl, but just as tall. She was pretty far into the harbor, so she was most likely flat-bottomed and not carrying much. She had six guns on her port side, and probably an equal number on her starboard. Despite her length, she probably needed twice the crew the Pearl required for the amount of upkeep she displayed. The bright polished cedar bulwarks sparkled atop the pristine blue waters, catching the late afternoon sun so that the ship shone like a gold bar on a mound of sapphires. Her sails looked as fresh and white as they day they'd been sewn. She was, in a word, magnificent.
"She's a fine ship, ain't she Cap'n?" Bootstrap marveled.
"Aye, a beaut, that one," young Benjamin chimed in.
"Nearly perfect," I said, glancing at Scarlett, who watched the ship grimly. "But, she's not half the ship that the Pearl is," I reminded.
My faithful crewmen nodded and Scarlett merely smiled.
We approached a pier farther inland than most of the ships and after Bootstrap, Scarlett, and myself had disembarked, I directed Benjamin to keep close. We headed toward the bustling port town.
"I didn't see any Rover out in them waters, Cap'n," Bootstrap ventured.
I turned to him. He'd never given me any reason to mistrust him the way Barbossa had, but I was hesitant to disclose my plans to him, all the same. "Well, I thought I'd do some asking, maybe some listening. And, besides, Scarlett wanted to come ashore and see if Nassau will serve as her new home, savvy?"
The tall quartermaster nodded and held mum any further questions. It wasn't long before we found a busy tavern called the Lonesome Mary on the main drag through town.
"Looks like the place for me, eh Captain?" Scarlett inquired.
"It definitely looks like the place for me," Boostrap put in as a few whores beckoned and called from a flimsy balcony.
I nodded and we entered the establishment. It was crowded and malodorous, as most taverns usually are. However, there was a peculiar hush about this place. I soon located the cause.
A tall pirate sat in a nest of the tavern's finest-looking whores. They all cooed at him, vying for his attention. His head was tipped away from me, very nearly ensconced in a pair of giant breasts that were ready to tumble forth from the owner's bodice. When he turned to another prostitute, this one draped about his shoulders, I saw his face. I recoiled at the sight, as did Bootstrap. Scarlett held firm, but she did grab hold of my arm for support.
The man's face was horribly scarred and brown on the left side and an empty eye socket gaped, revealing charcoal black flesh beyond. His nose seemed to have sunk into his face, for it was merely a smear in the mess of scar tissue. The left side of his mouth was pulled back into a permanent leer, revealing black teeth. The right side of his face seemed intact, as did his right eye. But the left was so horrible, I couldn't imagine many people to notice that side. As Scarlett had said in her tattooing hut, he had a long grey beard that reached nearly to his stomach. He also wore a curly white wig, as well as very fine clothes.
I finally tore my eyes away from the scene before me and pulled my companions toward a table.
"Thats him," I said with certainty. Scarlett nodded. "Great," I said without conviction.
Bootstrap raised an eyebrow at me, "Why is that great? Do you know him?"
I sighed gave Bootstrap a weary grin, "No, Bill, but we're going to make a friend tonight."
Bootstrap and Scarlett just stared at me as I told them my plan.