Author's Note: The pirate raid depicted in this chapter is not the one shown in CotBP; it's one that happens a few years earlier. Just wanted to clear that up, in case there was any confusion.

Thanks for your review, Eternalforest! Unfortunately, I don't have the patience to write very long chapters, so, while the first one is the shortest, they probably aren't going to get that much longer. The story is also quite fast-paced, which I hope isn't too annoying. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Two

It was almost midnight when I was awakened by the sound of running feet on the street below, and of distant cannons. I stayed frozen in bed for a minute, then, on another impulse, leaped onto the cold floor and hurried for the staircase. My father was strapping on his sword-belt downstairs when I reached him, terrified.

"Father, what's happening?"

"Go back to your room, lock the door, and stay there," was his blunt and unsatisfactory reply.

"Tell me what's going on!"

"There's a - renegade ship attacking the port. He'll be dealt with soon enough, though. Go back to bed."

I could tell he was trying hard to keep calm. One word raced through my mind over and over again: Pirates!

"Father, let me help!" It was said impulsively, and I knew immediately it would do no good. Perhaps if I had been his son instead of his daughter, things would have been different.

Instead of anger, however, he looked at me with what might have been sympathy. Maybe he understood me better than I had thought.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. Go back to bed. I'll be back soon." He kissed the top of my head and was gone.

I walked slowly back to my room and sat on my bed, but made no effort to go to sleep again. Around me the sound of guns and shouting men grew louder and louder. Our maid, Katerina, came frightened and wide-eyed to sit with me, but I hardly noticed her presence - I was worried about my father.

Suddenly I heard a terrible cracking sound downstairs, and I knew that the door had given way. I hadn't realized the pirates were actually in the city. The noise outside was so much louder with the door open; I could hear the clash of swords in the street and the wailing of a neighbor's infant. Everything became surreal...I was hypnotized by the sound of heavy boots tramping up the stairs. But then I glanced at Katerina, saw her sitting horrified, about to scream - and I snapped out of my sudden trance just in time to clap a hand over her mouth.

There was only one thing to do, and it was better not to think about it too long. I jerked a drawer open and grabbed my precious sword and a huge shawl, then ran to the window, dragging Katerina with me, and tossed them out.

"Jump, Katerina! Now!"

She just shook her head dumbly. I pushed her as hard as I could to the edge, and finally, hearing the boots now heading down the hall, she decided to jump, landing in the alley below on a pile of trampled hay.

I was not so lucky. I landed directly on the hard brick street. In pain, I wanted to lie there for hours; but reality made me pick myself up and collect my belongings.

"Run, Katerina!"

She took off running towards a busy street. Even at this dire moment, it still amazed me how stupid the woman was. Luckily, she wasn't my concern any more. I ran as fast and as quietly as I could through the dark alley, with no destination but to escape being caught. Finally, thinking myself far enough from my house, I curled with my shawl into a dark corner, and watched the smoke and flames rise to the sky until I fell asleep of pure exhaustion.

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When I awoke it was almost midday, and dreadfully quiet. I lay still for a couple minutes, not wanting to get up and witness the destruction last night had wrought on Port Royal; then I remembered my father, who was probably worried sick about me. With this thought in mind, I picked myself up from the cold stone and slowly began to walk.

I knew something was wrong when I saw the wisps of smoke still rising from the site of our beautiful home. Another twist in the alley and I was standing at the back door - or where the back door used to be. I sank to my knees in the dirty street, unable to move or seemingly to breathe. The house had been burned to the ground. Nothing recognisable remained.

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I wandered the desolate streets, searching for my father, whom I knew would be searching for me also. All around me were houses which had been destroyed by fires and cannons; next to them, looking strangely out of place, were many houses perfectly intact. The pirates hadn't been very thorough, I thought bitterly.

A middle-aged matron of my acquaintance peered out at me from the door of her humble abode, with an expression of pity on her stout features. I managed a small smile in her direction, and hurried on my way. As I walked through smaller streets, I met many people who stared at me in that manner. How could they have heard about the house so soon?

Finally I noticed a guard of the Royal Navy, with a stern look on his face, watching the city come back to life. I decided to ask him for help.

"Sir?" My voice sounded strangely small.

He looked in my direction, not so stern now. Encouraged, I continued, sounding stronger.

"I'm looking for my father; we were separated in last night's raid. Have you seen him?"

"What is your father's name, child?"

"Hunter, sir. John Hunter."

The look on the guard's face changed from professional to sympathetic, just like all the others. I wanted to scream.

"Maybe you'd better follow me."

Suddenly fear grabbed at my heart, and I followed him meekly. He led me to a long, shed-like structure near the docks. Inside was a row of five bodies, lying perfectly still. The sensation of fear was almost unbearable now. I walked slowly down the row, studying each dead face, fighting the urge to vomit. The very last figure in the row was horribly familiar. I knelt beside my father's still form, noticing with outrage that his sword, his watch-chain, even his wedding ring had been plundered. Dried blood surrounded an ugly wound on the side of his head.

I glanced at the guard, helplessly.

"I'm sorry." He looked sad and uncomfortable.

I stared wildly from the guard's living face to my beloved father's dead one, and promptly fainted.