It had been two days. Isabelle had been busy arranging the staff of the house she shared with Lord Beckett. She and Cutler were also busy at the newly built East India Trading Company Port Royale Head quarters. She stood in the large office and stared at the room sized map that the old cartographer, Mr. Ames was carefully painting. Cutler and Mr. Mercer were busy talking with one another and left her to her own devices. She heard the sound of someone clomping down the hall. She knew that was her cue and she moved slowly to the wing backed chairs that stood beside the fire. These were the same chairs that Cutler's father had used in his office. As Isabelle sat in the chair to the right of the fire place the scents of India wafted from it. She smelled Lord Beckett's India office and spices and sun. The sound of chains brought her out of the all too brief reverie.
"Lord Beckett, the prisoner as ordered, sir"
"Those won't be necessary." Cutler said as he motioned to the marine. Isabelle heard the sound of the shackles being removed from Mr. Turner's wrists. He strolled slowly and purposefully to the place where Cutler stood beside a side board pouring out brandy.
"The east India trading company has need of your services." Isabelle peeked around the wing of the chair and chanced to see Mr. Turner glare stonily at Cutler, who was offering him brandy in a fine crystal snifter. When he would not take it, Cutler set the glass heavily upon the tray and continued on, ignoring the slight. "We wish for you to act as an agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend Captain Sparrow." Cutler had approached the fire place and stared down into the fire; an unseasonable luxury in the tropical heat. Isabelle stared at his back.
"More an acquaintance than a friend. How do you know him?" Mr. Turner asked.
"We've had dealings in the past, and we've each left our mark on the other." Cutler had pulled an iron poker from the fire and stared at the red hot end which was in the shape of a letter P. Isabelle gasped softly at the sight of the poker. She knew it all too well and remembered too vividly its first use.
Lord Beckett had left India to deal with the damage done by drought and by pirates and also to prepare the arrangements for Cutler's return to university. On his departure, he had left Cutler and Isabelle in India, knowing that there was nothing for them to do in England and requiring someone continue to manage local company business while he was away. It didn't take long after that for Cutler to assert his rule over their little corner of India. He issued new laws stating curfews and taxes levied at the ports. Anyone caught trading something not stamped with the Company symbol was arrested. That is how she found herself sprinting to the local jail shortly before her sixteenth birthday. The bailiff stopped her at the door.
"Miss Beckett…how kind of you to visit."
"I am not here on a social call, I'm here to contest an erroneous arrest."
"Ma'am?"
"I must speak with Kapil Gahmsumji….he's a friend of mine."
"Miss, I'm not sure Lord Beckett would appreciate you frequenting with a known convict."
"Kapil would not be a convict if Lord Beckett were here."
It took her another day and her cowing a deputy while the bailiff was gone to lunch to gain entrance. She rushed to the overcrowded cell where Kapil sat with other innocent men.
"Kapil?"
"Isabelle, what are you doing here?"
"I came to get you out." Isabelle reached through the bars and grasped the man's hand. "I won't let Cutler keep you in here."
"There's not much that can be done for me. But I do have a favor to ask."
"Kapil..." Isabelle started, but Kapil cut her off.
"Listen girl! I have to ask you to protect Muniya and the children. I fear for them…"
"Why? I'll talk to Cutler, I'll make him understand…"
Kapil flashed a vision of a gallows and an indiscriminant line of citizens marching up towards it. It was a chilling thought.
"Protect them, please?"
"I will if I have to, but I'm going to get you out of here." The sound of dogs barking outside in the street alerted her to the sheriff's return and she quickly made an exit before she was seen or over heard.
On returning to the house she felt that Cutler was extremely happy. The library door was open just a crack and she walked slowly as Cutler's voice drifted into the foyer.
"A Pirate Captain? What is his name?"
"A Captain Sparrow, sir." Isabelle froze outside the library door at the mention of the name. She remembered the mysterious dark eyed stranger from the day that she and Cutler had fought in the garden. That had been little more than two months ago.
"How was he caught?" Cutler asked. Isabelle's skin prickled, Cutler's mirth at another's plight was almost more than she could bear.
"Brought unstamped goods in to port and was distributing at market. We arrested him right away."
"Good. Very good." Isabelle could not believe it. If Captain Sparrow had been to sea, he would not know of the taxes Cutler had imposed, and there was another innocent man within the walls of the local jail.
She made a second trip to the jail bringing with her food and a message from Muniya for Kapil. Kapil was grateful for the kindness, but still warned her of the dangers coming. Both knew too well that Cutler's wrath was far reaching. In a short time Kapil had given her instructions on how to get Muniya and the children to his brother's village in the jungle. Isabelle shook her head as she left Kapil's cell. She was working on her own plan and felt sure that she would not need to work alone to spirit Muniya and the children away. She was going over her plan once more when she was grabbed through the bars of one of the cell doors. She almost shrieked save for the fact that the brown eyes peering at her were not filled with malevolence, but with a plea for help.
Brown eyes that she recognized.
"Captain Sparrow?"
"SO you do remember me."
"Of course. You helped me in the garden…"
"Well, now I'm in need of your help…I'll be calling in that debt you owe to me."
"I'd expect nothing less." Isabelle stared him down and he released her hand. "I'll be sure to bring you some better food when I return."
"Thank you."
Isabelle found herself at the jail much sooner than she originally planned for Cutler begged for her to join him on a carriage ride that afternoon.
"Where are we going?"
"I want you to witness something…momentous." The way he said it made her skin crawl and Isabelle wanted nothing more than to flee the carriage. They arrived shortly at the jail to see a crowd of villagers packed around the yard.
"Cutler?" Isabelle's breath caught as she saw Captain Sparrow lead from the jail. "What's going on?" The press of people in the street would not allow the carriage to move any farther forward and Cutler exited the coach and mounted the platform that had been hastily erected there.
"A certain Pirate Captain, one Jack Sparrow, was recently apprehended in this port trying to sell stolen goods. They were not stamped, they had not had the tax paid upon them and he was in league with a known crew of pirates." A gasp went around the crowd. "It is my decision, therefore, to have an example made of Captain Sparrow." Cutler nodded to the jailors who forced Sparrow to kneel and extended his arm across the table. "Any man who sails under a pirate flag or who is caught in league with pirates shall face the same punishment on his first offense. The punishment will, understandably, become much more severe if the offense is repeated." Cutler now reached for an iron poker which jutted from the brazier that stood at the end of the platform. The end glowed red hot in the afternoon light. Isabelle was transfixed on the glowing metal of the iron poker. She couldn't imagine what would happen next.
"You, Captain Jack Sparrow have been convicted of Piracy. Because this is your first offense, and because I am a lenient and kind man, your punishment will be light. Hold him fast, gentlemen." Cutler grasped the poker by the handle and thrust it into the exposed arm of the Pirate captain. Isabelle's hand flew to cover her face, the smell of burning hair and flesh filled the air and threatened to make her stomach heave. She looked away from the scene and drew the curtains down. She was terrified of Cutler, a feeling which was magnified by the fear that the local villagers were now feeling as well.
Isabelle had lost track of the conversation, only Cutler's disgust had pulled her from the terrifying scene replaying in her mind.
"Freedom." Cutler practically spat the word at Mr. Turner. "Jack Sparrow is a dying breed. The world is shrinking, the blank pages of the map filled in. Jack must find his place in the new world or perish. Not unlike you, Mister Turner. You and your fiancée face the hangman's noose."
They were now standing out on the balcony overlooking the busy docks in the East India Shipping yard. It hadn't taken long for Cutler to commandeer the best docks of the city for use by the company. Isabelle strained to hear the rest of their conversation but to no avail. She concentrated instead on the feelings and images impressed upon her unwittingly by Mr. Turner. She witnessed, from his perspective, his rescue of Jack Sparrow, of first meeting the pirate, and of coming to respect him. She also saw Elizabeth as a young child, and how she had blossomed from a freckle faced antagonizing youth into a beautiful and well bred woman, if still a bit antagonizing and strong willed. She felt the love he felt for her. Will left the room and Cutler approached the fire place once again.
"Well, will he do as asked?"
"His love for Elizabeth out weighs any loyalty he might have for Captain Sparrow." Isabelle said. "He'll do as you command if only because what you hold is dearer to him than life itself."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm never sure of anything, Cutler, you know that." Cutler was suddenly towering over her, pinning her into the chair.
"Listen to me well, Isabelle. My father might have tolerated your mouth, your stupid riddles and your lack of respect, but I will not be so tolerant!" Cutler hissed. He lowered his head so that his mouth came very near her ear. "If you do not remember your place, then I will be forced to show it to you, and I can honestly say that though it will bring me great joy, you will be so otherwise occupied that you will not get a sense of that joy through all the agony I will cause you." He backed away from her and moved back to where Mr. Mercer still stood holding a shipping manifest. Isabelle slowly rose from her spot and tried to keep her knees from shaking.
"I'm dreadfully sorry to have caused you anger, my Lord. If it pleases you I shall…"
"Get out. I shall call for you if I am in need of you."
A/N: Thanks for all the positive reviews. I really appreciate the feed back. I really hope to be able to put up a chapter every few days or so. Please be patient. The story is all plotted out in my head, it just hasn't quite made it from brain to computer yet, so it might take a while. Again, thanks for the reviews!!!