Here's Chapter 3, guys. Hope you like it!
Chapter 3: Whom Death Pursues
The streets of Tortuga are a place that any man wouldn't feel unwanted. Jack had to hurry back to the Pearl soon so they could set sail towards the Persian Gulf. But for now, he was having a drink with Barbossa. The bar was unchanged. Drunkards still fought, women still crazy, and it was the perfect atmosphere for a pirate.
Barbossa took a drink. "Clever Jack," he said. "I know you too well that you are not planning to set sail for Mrs. Turner, or that misbegotten lover she has. Something greater is abroad, is there not?"
Jack had a crooked, twisted smirk on his face. "This time, there's no leverage. If I can really free the Dutchman, think of what will be in store for me…I mean us, Hector."
"What plan comes upon ye?" Barbossa asked.
Jack stared straight forward. "The Flying Dutchman is an impressive ship, mate. Here is the plan. It's rather simple, really."
"Aye, I'm listening," his co-captain said.
Jack looked at Barbossa. "All Elizabeth wants is to have her William back, so once they live happily ever after, we take control of the Dutchman. Our very own fleet is at hand, mate. Just make me Captain of my Pearl, and you can be Commodore Barbossa."
Barbossa laughed. "Do you really think I'd fall for that one, Jack? I've heard this one already."
"Yes, because I really want my ship back."
"And what of the crew?"
Jack shrugged. "They can always join us."
Nodding, Barbossa rubbed his chin. "Aye, it sounds like a fine plan. What could go wrong?"
"Absolutely nothing," Jack said, holding up his cup of ale. "Savvy?"
Barbossa slammed cups against his. "Aye."
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Bill ran up and down the ship in an excited manner. He has never been on a pirate ship before, and this was just too much. The young boy had to admit, he wouldn't mind sailing on a ship forever. Elizabeth watched her son play around the ship. He was just like his father, a sailor at heart. One of the crewmembers, a young Chinese lady, came from behind her and smiled.
"That's a cute child you have there," she said.
Elizabeth turned to her and smiled. "Yes, thank you."
"My name is Zi Lang," she said, holding out a hand.
Shaking her hand, Elizabeth was surprised that a beautiful woman like Zi would be sailing with a bunch of pirates, but was glad that there was another woman on board besides her. "Elizabeth Turner."
"It is an honor to sail with you, Mrs. Turner," Zi said. "Pintel and Ragetti have said many things about you while we work. Many good things."
Once again, she was surprised with the crew. "Oh, really? That's nice, but I don't think I can live up to the stories they tell. Why is a beautiful woman like you sailing on a ship like this?"
"I was going to ask you the same question, but I might have the same answer."
"Well, then. I guess we don't have to tell," she replied.
Zi smiled. "Yes."
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The black storm cleared from the day before, and things were once again calm. The hooded man stood up from the castle wall he slept against and wiped off the sand on his clothes. His white coat still looked cleaner than ever, and on the back, a faint outline of a falcon spreading its wings could be seen. The Chinese man pulled his hood over his head to block the sunlight, only to discover that sand had filled the hood, and now his face was covered with sand. He groaned in irritation and slowly stretched out, sheathing his weapons that lay beside him. They have guarded his life once again. The monster that was after him was gone, for now. Standing up, he headed to the bazaar his leader was staying at. Walking through the streets, the city of Aswad Mohit was a worldwide marketplace where diversity was large, and many languages were spoken here, but English was quite dominant due to many British traders passing through. As the man was passing through, the people were still wondering what happened last night.
An Arabic man standing in front of his shop in the bazaar looked at the hooded man.
"Hashshashin (Assassin)," he said. The Chinese man looked over. "Assalamu alaikum. (May peace be with you)."
"Matha tureed? (What do you want?)" the Chinese man asked in Arabic. "Mind your own business, merchant."
"Ana asif (I'm sorry)," the merchant replied. "My friend, it looks like Allah's will is against you."
The Chinese man sighed and continued heading towards the market where his leader was hiding out at. If you looked into his eyes, you could see the many battles he had endured, and the emptiness that his soul has become. A young, but weathered spirit. He passed through more groups of people, until he found some of his own. They too, were dressed in the same manner as he was. White coats and white hoods, and that same falcon symbol on the back of their coats.
One of them was Arabic. "Kaif halak? (How are you?)"
"The blackness of death chases me, Ramadi," the Chinese man replied. "How would you feel?"
"The Altair is looking for you," Ramadi, his friend said. "We should go right away."
"Na'am (Yes)," he nodded. "Let's go."
They entered the market and went upstairs, where he met with his leader, a former pirate captain who was a former Pirate Lord. Muhammad Hassan, the Pirate Lord of the Persian Gulf and Altair of his clan. The man was not of pure Arabic origin, but was an African Arabic. He sat in a comfortable chair, and was surrounded by his many wives who did their own comforting. Hassan was finely built, although not much of a quick man, he made up for it with his strength and unbreakable will. He taught the Chinese man everything he knew.
"Ah, Tsau Nu Tua," Hassan said, calling his name. "I'm sorry that you were chased last night. It's good to see you here and alive."
Tsau, the Chinese man, removed his hood and nodded. "Yes it is, Altair."
"Tsau, how many times must I tell you not to call me that?" Hassan laughed, picking up a cup of coffee. "You are like my nephew, you know. Your father and I were like brothers! Glorious memories, my friend."
Tsau tried to smile, but he found it hard to do after what he had just been through last night. "Yeah, okay."
"I have to talk to you about fate," Hassan said. "What do you think of it?"
"I think it's a load of crap," Tsau said. "I believe that us as men are free to do what we want."
Hassan smiled as he looked out the window. "Yeah, but my friend, from what I've seen, fate always bounds a man. That's why death chases you."
"It chases me because of what I've done," Tsau said. "I dare not speak of it."
"But you didn't have to do what you did," Hassan said. "Maybe it was fate that you were supposed to…well. But Allah was good to me and brought you salvation."
Tsau looked down. "Why have you asked for me?"
"I believe that there is a way to rid you of Death's pursuit," Hassan said. "We will be having visitors soon, from the Caribbean. They will be on a journey, and my stars tell me that you must be part of that journey. You are connected with them, I can feel it."
Tsau finally let out a chuckle.
"Ah, see?" Hassan smiled and laughed. "Even in the midst of death, you smile. You have just made my day a lot brighter."
"One day, Hassan," Tsau said in a more serious voice. "One day, it'll come."
Hassan pretended not to listen. "What a man you've become. Your father would be proud of you," Hassan said. "I'm proud of you, Tsau. I know you'll pull yourself out of this one in one piece. I understand what you are going through."
"You don't know what it's like when…" Tsau paused. "When God has abandoned you, and the Devil is afraid of you. I've sinned a lot, and sometimes I can only think that death is my way out."
"Death is not good," Hassan replied. "But the choice is yours. When your journey is over, you will be presented with two roads, two choices. Die and let your sins be atoned, or live and fight your sins away. I guarantee you. You'll know the answer by then."
I'll be back with Chapter 4 soon! Don't be afraid to ask any questions.