Chapter 15: The Last Surprise

"Damn!" Jack cursed.

"Aye, damn," Agreed Barbossa. They had both examined the Manchester through their telescopes and had seen Sir Walter rise from the deck and wrestle the wheel back under control.

"Get the carpenter back to work, Hector."

"I think, perhaps we should make the sweeps ready," Barbossa suggested.

Jack considered the big oars for a moment. "No. As tired as the men are I doubt they could keep up a rhythm long enough to make a difference. Better if we conserve our strength for a fight."

"Maybe so," Barbossa grudgingly agreed. "They won't be giving us another shot like that. It was a good plan, Jack."

"Aye," Jack glanced gratefully at his first mate. "We aren't done yet. I doubt we can stay ahead of them until nightfall. It'll come to grapples and boarding afore long. Share out a slug of rum to all hands. Be sure there's a double share for them that're in my cabin. They did well."

The rum was shared out and for an hour the Black Pearl stayed ahead of her pursers. The Harasser fired ranging shots to the jeers of the pirates until one struck home. Barbossa chivied the men back to their posts and had the bodies of those who had fallen to the round shot pitched unceremoniously over the side. It was then that hope was lost.

"Captain!"

Jack turned his gaze up to the masthead where the lookout waved frantically. "What is it?"

"Sail dead ahead, sir!"

Jack looked to where the man pointed. Due north was yet another ship. It was tacking against the wind but she was definitely heading for the three combatants. As Jack watched four blue rockets flashed into the air. Cheers could be heard coming from the knight's ships.

"Well, Jack?" Barbossa turned to his captain with a look of resolve.

"Well, Hector," Jack said pulling his hat more firmly onto his head. "It's time for our last surprise."

"Sir Walter!" The captain rushed to the knight who was propped on the aft rail with his shirt torn open. The surgeon had sewn his wound closed again but he was feeling weak from his long exertions.

"What is it, captain?" Sir Walter asked.

"A frigate," the captain was excited. "Due north and tacking against the wind. She's launched four rockets. It has to be the Monaco."

"The Monaco? She was patrolling off the coast of Spain."

"She was. Yes," the captain said. "But she was due back in port the day we left. Sir Henry must have sent her south to join us."

"Very well, captain," Sir Walter felt strength come back into his limbs. "Launch the rockets. Let her know we're still in need of assistance."

"Captain," the second lieutenant called. "Something just broke loose on the Pearl."

As they looked the pirate's mainsail collapsed sending men tumbling from the rigging. The black canvas flapped limply in the wind and the pirate ship slowed perceptibly.

"Prepare to board her, captain," Sir Walter ordered.

The Pearl had lurched as the wind escaped the mainsail and Jack had to brace himself against the rail to keep his feet. Many of the crew had stumbled on the deck but they all knew their business and quickly were ready again. Over the starboard rail Jack caught sight of the corvette flying before the wind. She was soon abeam of the Pearl and readying a broadside. With a deceptively casual movement Jack reached out and spun the wheel hard over. The massive galleon slammed with horrific force into the side of the smaller ship. The Harasser was taken completely off guard. Too late the helmsman reacted. Though he tried to steer clear of the great black hull there was no time. The Pearl ran up onto the rail of the Harasser and drove the smaller ship down into the water. The yards momentarily tangled but the pirate turned away again and pulled itself free. The Harasser's deck was swamped. Men were scattered across the teak and some had been thrown overboard. The once swift ship was driven by the wind into the oncoming waves. A massive hole had been opened in the ship's side and she took on even more water. As quickly as the crew reacted the ship was still doomed. The Harasser was going down.

"We've opened a seam, captain!" Leech reported when he came onto the quarter deck his dark face worried. "I put some men to pounding in oakum but the leak is bad."

"Very good, Mr. Leech. Time enough to worry 'bout that later," Jack was gaging the distance between the Pearl and the Manchester. "Prepare to repel boarders."

Leech's response was lost in the sudden thunder of cannon. At nearly the same instant the gunners on the Pearl and the Manchester loosed their broadsides. Iron shot smashed into the opposing ships. Sailors screamed and died as clouds of splinters and smoke shrouded their decks. In the chaos Hector Barbossa rose up to reinstate order. When the sailors of the Manchester swung over the rails they found the crew of the Black Pearl ready and waiting. With sword held high and teeth bared in a rictus snarl Barbossa lead his division into the fray. He was the Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea and he would show these dogs what that meant. The men of the Manchester quailed before him as Barbossa struck them down. As always his blade flashed and flickered conducting a symphony of death. He had known a thousand enemies and strode untold numbers of decks awash with blood. Hector Barbossa might die this day but he would drag as many souls to Hell with him as his blade could reach.

"Onward men!" Sir Walter shouted above the clash of arms. He held his long blade up as he leaped over the Black Pearl's rail to land heavily on the deck. He was among the pirates in a moment slashing and parrying nearly deafened by the ringing of steel on steel. Briefly he caught sight of Sparrow on the quarter deck and so he turned to make his way there.

Men surged all across the deck. Pistols were fired and then used as clubs. Boarding pikes were thrust forward to come back reddened with blood. And everywhere swords swept in great cleaving arcs. Hell had burst at the seams and overflowed onto the Pearl's deck. Into this leaped Captain Jack Sparrow. His blade danced like a live thing. Parry, slash, thrust and another enemy went down. Jack drove into the flank of the boarders alone and they were forced to face him or die. Those that did face him died anyway. He found himself smiling and couldn't think why. All he knew was that he would not go out frothing at the mouth and voiding his bowels. He would fall in a fight. And not just any fight. He had destroyed four warships in less than a single day. He had outrun, out maneuvered and out foxed a whole squadron for a full night and half a day. And now on his own deck he would go down not like a mere man but like a legend. The Legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. Suddenly he knew why he was smiling.

Sir Walter snarled a challenge as he broke through the press of men to face Sparrow. His eyes were fever hot with near insane rage. Sparrow parried the knight's first attack and was hard pressed to fend off a series of rushes. The men surrounding them had backed off leaving the two leaders to fight their own personal battle. Jack swept Sir Walter's blade aside and lunged in only to have the man step lightly out of the way. Sir Walter countered with a lunge of his own but his blade passed through the space where Jack had just been. They feinted and riposted and lunged again. So evenly matched were the two men that had Sir Walter not already been injured they might have fought to a stand still. As it was the knight had lost too much blood and had pushed himself far beyond his limits. Sir Walter's movements became sluggish. His parries were slow and his ripostes fell short. It ended suddenly. Jack stepped in and bound Sir Walter's blade hard enough to drive it from the man's grip. As the knight instinctively reached for the fallen sword he felt Jack's blade come to rest on his throat.

"You're a hell of a fighter, mate. A tough man I'll grant," Jack said not unkindly to Sir Walter. "But you've lost this time."

Sir Walter sneered at the pirate. He was looking over Jack's shoulder. "I've not lost. You have."

Jack knew better than to look but there was no mistaking the roar of cannon fire. The deck thrummed with impact of solid shot from a broadside but there was something strange about it. It was as though the impact was muffled somehow. Absently Jack noticed Sir Walter's expression change from defiance to disbelief. The knight settled down to one knee and raised his chin.

"I yield."