Summary: Freed and shackled at the same time - what did happen to Barbossa's crew after Curse of the Black Pearl?


Most of the Black Pearl's crew fell into deep sleep on the way to Port Royal, in something like a protective reflex. It was cold.

And then again, the heat was undeniable where they happened to press against each other or wrapped their arms around themselves. There was coarseness in the ragged cloths that passed for shirts and breeches, vibrations in the wood as they tramped and stamped aboard, and a scent of blood, sweat, sea salt, and plain filth strong enough to taste. Sound, smell, and feel hit so hard that it made sight too much to take for some: a few men fainted dead away when they saw the colours the morning sun gave to the world, limp with sensation.

Ragetti was nearest the prison door - the novelty of coldness had worn off, and his cellmates had shoved his limp body to the door to take the brunt of the draught.

He woke on the first night of their imprisonment because he was thirsty - he yelled a little as he jerked awake, thinking that the curse had returned, but he subsided soon enough as he felt something true, a real sensation; something like ... pain.

"'Ere, there's a dog chewing on me hand," said Ragetti.

"Brave dog," Pintel said, looking at the dirt-smeared limb.

Ragetti yelped and whipped his hand away. It was certainly more full-bodied than anything he'd felt in his ten years on the Black Pearl, and his blood was awfully red, but there was no need to go scrabbling after a feeling like that. "Ouch," he said in an appropriately injured tone. "Dunno why there'd be a dog in a dungeon anyway."

No one paid him any attention, and he wasn't particularly surprised. He began to dig round in his pockets, hoping to find something to throw. "Gonna get you back for that, you little cur."

And then he froze. Perhaps it was a decade spent under a heathen curse that gave him such good instincts, but he stopped moving immediately he heard movement from the back of the cell. He shivered a bit, seeing Bo'sun raise himself, and prepared himself for trying to appreciate the feeling of pain at least a little.

"A dog?" Bo'sun's voice rose with the slow power of red, molten rock "Do you mean the dog in this dungeon that happens to carry the key to the door?"

There was a moment's silence, and then the rasp of indrawn breaths.

"Dunno if that's what I mean," said Ragetti, cautiously, "but the dog's still there."

Pintel leaned forwards and spoke in a low, unsteady voice. "Put your hand back through the railings, and you let that dog eat to its heart's content."

"But it'll hurt!"

"Whereas hanging is naught but a dance upon the promenade, is it?"

"He won't have to wait that long for a little pain," said Bo'sun. The crack of his knuckles echoed faintly from the corners.

"Don't do that, you'll scare the dog!" Twigg hissed.

"It's still there!" Ragetti said. "What do I do?"

"Stick out yer hand, I said!" Pintel crouched close, coaching him. "All right ... that's it..."

He waved a hand back and hissed, "Who's that breathing on me neck? Back away, away, all of you - Ragetti, you don't dare move that hand - this is a delicate procedure."

" 'Delicate procedure'?" Twigg hissed anxiously. "Who died and made a clod like you ship's surgeon?"

"The ship's surgeon, curse the Navy fop that did him in." Pintel spat, and all the men after him, Ragetti dribbling quietly out of his mouth so as not to startle the dog.

"Now hssshhht!" said Pintel. "Come now, Ragetti. Move your hand closer. Just a little closer, lad. That's the way. And now I...

He sneaked his hand between the bars and towards the dog's neck with the steady, inevitable pace of the sun across the sky. He imagined watching it, and he thought, Freedom...

Pintel yelled and rolled back, clutching his hand. The dog cocked its head innocently at him and licked its chops.

"I think it likes you even more than me!" said Ragetti. He was getting into the spirit of escape. "Get your hand out too, and we'll see!"

Pintel groaned indignantly - looked around at the glowering faces of the rest of his cellmates - and put one hand through the bar.

Twigg reached his thin hand out carefully when the dog was occupied, and took the key ring. The dog eyed him fretfully as he tested the lock with the various keys, and let go of its flavourful chew toy when the door swung open to give a sharp wuff.

"Here!" Ragetti said in panic, whipping the key ring from the door and offering it to the dog. The dog snapped it up, considered them, and wagged its tail.

The pirates did not take so much as a still moment's breathing in thankful awe of their freedom: they ran.

There were two guards up the stairs and down the corridor, entertaining themselves with dice, and the pirates didn't even take the time to kill them. It took long enough to sidle down the streets towards the docks and freedom, avoiding the few people still up so late.

And so Bo'sun whispered quickly, as they ended up being reaching the harbour at the same time: "Why on earth take the time to bring that dog with you?"

"It ran with us. And it seems that I am the sole one among us with a heart and a mind that knows enough to be thankful of its benefactors," said Pintel, with great dignity, "and that is why I shall take this dog and treat it well for the rest of its life."

He limped to a rowboat that Ragetti had staked out, and Bo'sun had the distinct idea that his calves were probably bitten out round about mongrel-height.

"Looks more like the dog likes the taste of pork" - Bo'sun might have said. He found that he couldn't; perhaps he was grateful too. He went to the boat he'd been eyeing, and headed for open ocean.