A/N I promise, this is absolutely the last cliffhanger...for now. Chapter 10 was running long, so I cut a good part off and that part is now the almost complete chapter 11. That's why there's cliffhanger-ness.

Now, this chapter and the next are going to be a little crazy, so keep up. This was a hard chapter to write, simply because there's so much happening...also, a big THANK YOU to my two new betas. You guys rock.

Now, on with the show!

Chapter 10

Lieutenant Franklin sighed. He loved his job, he really did, but slow days like this just killed him. It was just a few minutes after noon and he'd only had one convict arrested and condemned to death. At this rate, he'd never be promoted, and that was a thought he didn't want to focus on. Usually by this time, there would already have been about three executions and several arrests, a handful of torture sessions, and a shaving. Slow day, indeed. He gave another frustrated sigh and rose to pour himself some brandy. He frowned, the wife certainly wouldn't like him to be drinking this early in the day. Oh well. What the wife didn't know wouldn't kill her, and he brought the drink to his lips.

Much to his delight, two of his men escorted three people into his office about ten minutes later. He didn't recognize the muscular gentlemen who entered, but it took him very little time to place the woman. Any self-respecting law enforcement officer worth his salt had seen the posters and notices, warning them to beware of her and her murdering ways. As his soldiers removed her gag, Lieutenant Franklin stood and bowed to her, a regal smile on his face.

"Well, well. It is an honor to meet you at last, Miss Carrington. One could say it's fortunate that you let down your guard. I am Lieutenant Martin Franklin, miss, and most esteemed to make your acquaintance." He stood and examined the men with her. "I assume that you've come to gather her bounty?"

Jack's men only nodded, like they were terribly incapable of stringing together enough sounds to get 'Yes.' The Lieutenant nodded and stepped over to a box with a lock, which he excitedly removed. Once the box was open, he brought it over to his desk and began shilling coins out onto a scale. Kate grimaced. Never in her life had she seen a man so eager to give away money when it concerned her. 'Unless you count Papa,' she thought.

Lieutenant Franklin poured the coins into a bag and handed it to the men. "There you are. It's all there, if you wish to count." The men simply looked at each other and took the coins. Franklin turned back to Kate. "I'm most curious. Where have you been this last year? As I heard it, you've been seen in the company of pirates in the Tortuga port. Surely you didn't turn to piracy?"

Kate casually shrugged, despite the nervous tightening of her throat. "I did. It seems that one is harder to find on the water than on land."

"Is that so, miss? Well then--Smith, Watson--" Franklin beckoned the two men who escorted Kate and the others inside, "You heard her, she's a pirate. She needs to be marked as such and then taken to a cell to await execution."

Kate's eyes widened as she was pulled over to the fireplace at the opposite end of the room and a wrought iron 'P' branding rod was picked up from the flames. Franklin smiled at Jack's men and poured himself another brandy. "In some cases, those who bring the criminals to justice wish to see the execution--" His statement was interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream coming from Kate, to which he gave a disapproving snort, "Now, now, Miss Carrington, it doesn't hurt that bad, does it?" Everyone turned to stare at Kate, whose pale inner arm now bore a bright red letter 'P'.

Lieutenant Franklin coughed. "Forgive me, gentlemen, but I'm afraid that I have other things to attend to. If you wish to see her hanged, I have her scheduled for noon tomorrow. Good day, sirs."

Jack's men looked at each other, shrugged, and left the room, making a point of ignoring Kate on their way out. Lieutenant Franklin downed his brandy, commanding Smith and Watson to take Kate away, waving politely to her as she was dragged from the room to a cell. Smith and Watson returned a few minutes later to receive further orders. Lieutenant Franklin had an idea. He gave his men orders to execute Kate later that evening, rather than the next day. He'd receive that promotion yet.

-----

Not far away, the crew of the Black Pearl was uncomfortably following their captain down a crowded cobbled street. The only person who didn't seem to be bothered was Jack, who was wearing a broad grin and strolling along, humming softly to himself. Gibbs and Cotton exchanged confused looks. Jack had a plan of sorts, this much they knew, but he'd been mum about the details. They'd been walking in circles for some time now and no one was able to figure out why. Jack seemed to know where they were going, but after leading his crew by the same blacksmith shop six or seven times, hope of finding their destination, whatever that happened to be, was lost.

They were shortly joined by the brawny crew members, who promptly delivered Kate's reward to Jack, informed him of Kate's execution, and fell in line with the others. Jack sifted through the bag, muttering to himself as he counted. He gave a satisfied 'hmph' and pocked the coins before turning to his crew. "Alright, men," Jack clapped his hands. "Gibbs, I require a pair of breeches, a waistcoat, and anything else you can find that an adolescent boy might need. Take your men and get on that. You, Ridiculously Quiet Mousy Girl," he pointed to Meredith, "you'll go with Cotton and Marty to the sick house to await the nightly..." he stuck out his tongue and repressed a gag, "...disposal. Woman, about 18 to 24 years, red hair, if they have it. If not, get the closest to it. Stay there until we send for you."

Marty and Cotton nodded in compliance. Meredith blinked at Jack, confused. "How do we find the sick house?" she squeaked.

Jack was silent a moment, as if the answer were the most obvious thing on the planet. "About 50 paces down the road from here. Honestly, girl, weren't you paying attention when we passed it on our walk?"

The crew stared him with understanding. The walk was to familiarize them with the town. Jack grunted impatiently and wiggled his fingers at them in a shooing motion. "Chop, chop, my revolting little underlings! We've only got 'til noon tomorrow! Surely you don't want to miss the hanging of the century?"

The people who'd been given assignments trudged off and Will shook his head. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Jack. It's bad enough that you've betrayed Kate's trust." Will bit his lip in anger, thoroughly disgusted by Jack.

Jack chose to ignore Will for the moment. "Right, the last of you need return to the Pearl and fetch Miss Carrington's black tri-corn hat. I might wish to sell it, add to our fortune." The last stragglers began to trudge back to the ship. All that remained was Jack, Will, and the muscular men. "William," Jack continued, stroking his beard, "perhaps you might like to step inside this fine blacksmith establishment. A nice bit of nostalgia to ease your troubled mind is just what you need, son."

Will furrowed his brows. "I thought you said I was to follow you around--"

"Forget what I said. You've earned a break, lad, and I suggest you take it. Might be the only opportunity you get on this little outing to spend time alone. Go on, enjoy yourself. Ask the shop keeper if you could forge one of those...those, er..." Jack moved his hands in motion that Will couldn't follow. He stretched them out in a square-like shape. "Those..."

"An anvil?" Will asked, thinking the whole idea of forging an anvil was ludicrous.

Jack snapped his fingers. "That's why you're the blacksmith, mate. Scurry." Jack reprised his shooing motion. Will blinked and shrugged his shoulders. He supposed that Jack was right, that he'd only be able to get away from him through these means, and any distraction from the thought of Kate hanging was welcome. Will nodded and slowly went inside the blacksmith shop.

Jack stood outside the shop and peered inside the dark window for close to 10 minutes. Finally, he broke his silence and spoke in a low voice to the husky crewmen. "Take out the shop owner. He's alone, but if anyone else comes in, take them out as well. I'd close the shutters if I were you, make the shop appear to be closed. Remember, it's essential that the boy doesn't leave. We'll come back for you tomorrow after the hanging."

"Aye, aye, Captain," the men spoke together. They entered the shop and Jack locked eyes with a bewildered Will before the shutters were closed. Jack was no expert at reading lips, but he was sure that whatever Will was saying to him wasn't very nice, and he tipped his hat to the boy in response. From within, the faint sound of blows landing could be heard and the lock clicked on the door. Jack smirked. Everything was going splendidly, and he needed a drink to celebrate. Fishing out a couple of coins from his new pouch of money, Jack strolled into the pub across the road, whistling a merry tune.

-----

Kate stood on her tiptoes, peering out the small barred window in her cell. In a daze since her imprisonment, Kate only wished to stare out of this little hole and out at the world she would soon leave. For hours she marveled at the simplicity of the scene before her--the overweight baker peddling bread, the group of children playing laughing as they played games in the street, young lovers stopping to purchase flowers from an old woman...she regarded every small thing as a wonder, one of God's miracles. She repressed a sob and continued her gaze. The sun was setting over the horizon now, and Kate wished to watch it go one last time.

After the final rays of light gave way to darkness and the torches were lit along the prison walls, Kate finally tore herself from the window and sat on a pile of hay. Her cell was a terribly unhappy place, with it's cold stone walls and rusty bars. Kate attempted a smile in spite of herself, supposing that prisons weren't supposed to be happy in the first place. Kate rose her arm to run her fingers through her tangled locks when her ear collided painfully with her 'P'. She cried out in dreadful agony, winning her annoyed stares from the guards outside her cell. Wincing, she slowly brought her arm to rest on her leg to examine the damage.

There was an obvious improvement from earlier that day. When she arrived in her cell, a small stream of blood was trickling down her arm. The area around the wound was pink and inflamed, so Kate dared not endeavor to stop the bleeding.

Then there was the pain.

At first, when the iron was pressed to her skin, she almost felt a dull cold just before the searing heat scorched her flesh with a deafening sizzle. The iron was removed from her arm and revealed almost bubbling skin. Kate had scrunched her eyes together, determined not to cry. There were no words. Kate was sure that 'excruciating' didn't even qualify. Although she'd never experienced it personally, she was prepared to argue that childbirth was less painful.

"That's going to scar," Kate uttered aloud as she examined the damage presently. All along the letter were tiny scabs, while other places were still swelling with fever. Although the majority of the pain had ebbed, her arm still throbbed with a sharp discomfort.

"They always do, girlie," spoke a voice in the cell next to her.

Kate turned her attention to the speaker. She was sort of embarrassed, for she'd not noticed him until now. He was an older man, rather fat and dirty, with a large floppy hat resting on his head. He was smiling to Kate through the bars of his cell. It was not the lecherous smile that Kate was often met with by this sort of men, it was a honest-to-goodness friendly grin. "I don't have one of them, but I've seen the others with 'em."

Kate looked back at her wound. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to bother you."

The man chuckled. "That's alright, girlie." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "What's your name?"

"Kate," she smiled, tearing off part of her skirt for a bandage, "Kate Por--Carrington. What's yours?"

"Kate Carrington...now, where have I heard that name before?" The man tapped his lips with his fingers thoughtfully. "As for my name...I don't know! I've been here so long, I can't remember! But everyone here calls me Pickles, ma'am."

Kate gingerly wrapped up her wound and giggled. "Well, Pickles, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Were you ever a lady in the Spanish court?" Pickles asked.

"Er...no," Kate answered, wincing as she bandaged herself. She had a sneaky feeling that this was going to be a long night.

Pickles scratched his head under his hat. "What about a milkmaid in Peru?"

"Not me," Kate replied.

"Right...don't worry, Miss Kate, I'll place you, even if it takes me all night!"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Kate mumbled.

After a few more questions from Pickles and a few more negative responses from Kate, two more guards came clicking down the corridor and stopped in front of Kate's cell. She thought nothing of it, assuming that her guards were merely switching shifts, until one of the new guards instructed them to release her.

Kate stood, hardly believing her ears. "I've been cleared?"

The door to her cell was opened and the new guards stepped in. "Actually, no. Quite the contrary, Miss Carrington. The Lieutenant decided to move your execution up to this evening. We are to escort you to the gallows."

"No!" Kate shrieked, "That's not--"

The guard closed his eyes and held up a hand to keep her from speaking further. "The has agreed to, in light of this change, offer you the services of a priest. Should you choose to be absolved, we will escort you and from there, the gallows. Do you require confession?"

Kate bit her lip and closed her eyes. Her stomach churned violently, rendering her speechless. She nodded and swatted at the tears brimming her eyes. "Y-yes," she managed to choke.

"Very good, then. Come," The guards extracted a pair of shackles and strapped them to Kate's wrists and ankles. All four guards escorted her down the dark corridor, leaving an ignorant Pickles still asking questions to a person that was no longer there.

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A/NI hope I didn't lose anyone. If there are any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me. Chapter 11, hopefully, will be posted within the next week, and a lot of it will make more sense, but if you still want to contact me, by all means, do so. I hope you enjoyed it!

By the way, thanks to my personal loony-bin, my group of friends, for coming up with Pickles. For your sake and your sanity, guys, I hope he's a hit.