Chapter 9 – Actions and alarms

Jack awoke with a start and an unexpected, and overwhelming, desire to scratch.

Why this should be unexpected, when for most of his life scratching and waking had been synonymous, he wasn't quite sure, but he didn't like it, not now he didn't. Nor could he have explained, even to himself, why the small red bites on his neck and in his armpit and groin filled him with such outrage when they had been his companions for as long as he could remember, at least until very recently. But they did provoke outrage and quite a resentful outrage too. With a muttered curse he threw off the sheet tossing it to the deck and stamping on it thoroughly, before storming out of the cabin in a naked, and quite irrational, rage.

Only to collide with Elanor coming out from the waterfall room.

She stepped back quickly but looked at him calmly enough, eyebrows raised,
"Problem?" was all she said.
"I've been attacked!" he growled at her, his eyes drawn almost of their own accord to the loosely wrapped edges of her robe, despite his discomfort.
She seemed confused by his comment, though not unduly alarmed,
"Indeed? By whom? Ariadne says that everything is secure. There have been no nocturnal visitors, other than the one we invited."
He dragged his gaze from the tantalising glimpses of her freshly washed flesh and frowned at her with angry and narrowed eyes, scratching irritably at his neck as he did so.
"Then your ghost is wrong, I have been attacked," the frown became a glower in the face of her questioning look. "By yet another little beastie," he snapped.

Her eyes flickered at that, wandering over him in a curious, yet disappointingly dispassionate, way. She saw the cause of the scratching he was struggling not to do,
"Ah. I see." She smiled slightly, "You can thank Mr Gibbs for that I expect." She shrugged, "I got visited by them too, if that is of any comfort to you."
She crossed her arms and looked at him with her head tilted in enquiry,
"But why the concern, you had them when you came aboard."
He pouted and wagged a finger at her,
"Mebbe," he narrowed his eyes again, "But that was when I thought that everyone had them. Seems that they don't and if you don't have to put up with their attentions then I don't see why I should."
He finished the sentence with a glare as a renewed itch cried out for a fingernail.

She seemed amused at that,
"Ah, I see. Yes I should have guessed from your clothes."
"Guessed what?" he demanded suspiciously.
"That you are not as careless of your appearance and physical comfort as it might appear at first glance. "
His sense of outrage returned,
"Not careless at all luv! Ships are not clean and tidy places and what has to be endured has to be, and 'tis also true that I prefer to travel with as little impediment as possible." He caught the gleam in her eyes and forestalled her likely remark as to why that might be with a raised finger, "but I'm not careless." The outrage gave way to a smirking smile and he leaned a little closer, "never that, I promise you."
She didn't move but her smile widened,
"I'll reserve judgement on that until I have more evidence on the subject."

For a moment they just stared at each other in silence, then Jack cursed and squirmed as a new bite was added to his tally. Elanor gave him a look of sympathy,
"What is clear is that you are a man who adapts quickly to his environment Captain Sparrow, the shower is all yours. Just don't be too long, we need to make plans and there is no need to drown the beasts, the soap will deal with them."
She stepped back to give him access to the door without the need to squeeze past her, suppressing another smile as a hint of regret passed across his face, and blinking with gentle malice,
"How we are going to deal with this situation when Mr Gibbs comes aboard, given that they are nomadic little creatures, is something I will leave you to think about."
That brought raised brows and then a frown as he disappeared into the shower, leaving Elanor to reflect on the dilemma she had just handed to him, and his likely mental contortions about it, with some considerable amusement.

***

They had dropped anchor by the time Jack stepped out onto the deck, and the ship was sitting calm and patient in the deep blue waters of a secluded bay, in the distance he could see the white shores of a small island and above him birds wheeled as they prepared to dive for fish on the inshore reefs. Elanor was still at the helm and buried in one of the strange and esoteric tasks that crewing this vessel seemed to involve. As he watched her he decided that, with several days of time on their hands, and since she was unlikely to spend much time on frivolities, or being friendly, there was no reason that she shouldn't start to initiate him into those mysteries, no reason at all.

He opened his mouth to say as much but it seemed that she had an agenda of her own and one she had every intention of airing before they got any further; she launched her attack without even looking up.
"How did you meet Mr Gibbs?"
Jack just stared at her for a long moment, waiting until raised her head and met his eyes,
"Does it matter 'lanor? You've seen him for yourself, as honest as a man of his luck and station can be; at least to those he thinks of as his own, and fortunately he views me in such a light." He leant a little towards her, "You, now, he has some reservations with, and who can blame him for he's never seen your like, nor this ship's, not even in seas beyond the map." He straightened again, "But the lure of treasure and the fountain will reel him in, and loyalty and even handedness will see that he does right by us." He frowned in sudden thought, "just as long as we don't expect him not to do right by himself by doin'…. Right by us." He blinked at her and waved an emphatic hand, "If you take my meaning."
She shrugged and dropped her eyes back to her task,
"I think so, and I'd expect nothing else of him. But I'd like to know more of this 'thinking you his own' business, so I ask you again how did you meet him?"

Jack sighed heavily and looked down at the deck, then he shrugged in recognition of her right to ask,
"In Tortuga, I was looking for a crew."
"When was this?"
"More than ten years ago, but even then Gibbs knew where to find the best sailors," he frowned and gave that a moments more thought, "sometimes the only sailors. A free port isn't a place where those who have any choices stay for long."
She regarded him steadily for a moment then nodded, though it was obvious she hadn't finished with the subject. Nor had she and, as he moved to turn away, she was worrying at it again,
"And where had he come from? Or perhaps more importantly, given the risks we may be preparing to run, why had he stayed there?"
He stared at the sea for a moment while he mentally tipped her a salute; she never missed the point did she? Saved him a lot of effort, maybe that was why he was beginning to like her, which was a dangerous thing for him to allow to happen given what had followed the last time he had been so unwise. But she was captain of this ship and so deserved her answer for that, if no other, reason. He turned back to face her,
"He'd come from his majesty's navy by way of a court martial for drunkenness," he cast her a droll and dry look from under raised brows, "which is no an easy thing to achieve believe me."
She dipped her head in acknowledgement,
"And?" was all she said.

Jack shrugged,
"He stayed because there was no where else for him to go, at least not where the rum was so easily obtained that is."
She frowned at him,
"So he's over fond of his rum? That doesn't sound so good from our point of view."
Jack smiled a softly wicked smile,
"How can a man be over fond of his rum? Rum is good." The smile died, and he looked up towards the cloudless sky with a sigh "and sometimes it's the only thing he can rely on." He forced the thoughts that threatened to surface away and turned another half smile in her direction. "It's of no concern 'lanor, rum or no he'll not let us down. Drunk or sober he's a good man to have at your back."
She was watching him with those all seeing eyes and with a look that was perhaps more thoughtful and kinder than was comfortable. He shrugged with elaborate unconcern,
" No worries Captain, anyways he doesn't drink as much as he used to either. Just enough."
The kind look didn't fade but something overlaid it, something too close to understanding to be tolerated; but then it was gone and the narrow eyed, cynical laughter was back,
"To wear down his common sense you mean?" she said dryly.
He just grinned at that, suddenly glad for the more familiar mood, and gave her a wide eyed stare
"Now why would you think that?"

She shook her head with a faint chuckle and then was suddenly narrow eyed and serious again,
"So he wasn't always a pirate?"
Jack sighed at her persistence, but short of going below, or diving over the side, it was clear there was little he could do to avoid it. As he had no intention of granting her that level of victory he hitched one hip onto the chart table at the side of the helm, crossed his arms over his chest, and shrugged carelessly, though he had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew what her intended bearing was,
"Few men are. Most start as something else but life sets their feet on the path sooner or later."
"In your case was it sooner or later?" She shot him a searching look, "were you a pirate when you first met Mr Gibbs?"
He suppressed another sigh; he had been right about her heading, inquisitive wench that she was. He shrugged again, elaborately careless,
"More an adventurer you might say, though it's true I already had the brand."
"How did that come about?"
He looked past her and towards the sea for a moment, then sent a bright smile in her direction,
"Ah well luv your world may be different, maybe a man can choose what he wants to be, or a woman too, but here…….., well here it seems that it's all about destiny."

She watched him carefully as his smile died and he stared out towards the sea again, eyes distant and his expression suddenly sombre,
"I was born a pirate, but I had no taste for it. So I set out to make my way in the world in paths other than those I was born to." His expression twisted, "As nothing more than an honest man no less. Believe that if you can, but I'd not blame you if it seems too fantastical. But so it was, an honest man no more nor less." A bitter smile lit his eyes, "My excuse for that is that I was too young and stuffed full of dreams and notions. They cost me all that I had and more."
He sighed and looked back at her with another shivering shrug , as if shaking the memory away,
"But when the fates set the heading for you the best a man can do is hold a steady course, you have to follow where their winds lead. I wanted the sea and freedom." He smiled again but it seemed to her that it was sad rather than angry or bitter, "And it seems that the price of having it was the piracy I was born to."
"How so?" she asked mildly,
He looked back at her and his smile became slow and cynical, the flash of gold that came with it somehow highlighting the bright hardness of his words despite the softness of his tone,
"Let's just say that the malice of man cannot always be fathomed, and that no good deed goes unpunished."

A sudden chill entered her blood as she saw the dark and grief laced expression in his eyes, and she wondered how much she really wanted to know. For a moment she was truly afraid what he might say, and of how much power his experience might have to finally rip apart her own tattered and moth eaten veil of innocence, and with it her remaining belief in the world; and if she thought the price was worth paying for understanding him.

But the choice was not hers to make it seemed, for it was immediately obvious that this was all he intended to say on the subject of his youth. The disturbing and dark expression faded from his eyes and his face softened, then he turned that beautiful, depreciating, yet coaxing, smile that she had come to realise was one of his most potent weapons, upon her,
"Don't get me wrong love, I wouldn't undo any of it." The smile died and an unsettled and wary expression drifted across his face, "Well not much of it, that is to say some of it I would happily seen undone."
He gave himself another shake, the ornaments in his hair shivering, as some memory darkened his eyes again for a moment. Then that darkness was in turn chased away by another of those smiles,
"Pirate I am; seems I always was. If that's what Calypso demands as her price then so be it. I'm not going to deny her."
"Price for what Jack?" now she was curious, and glad to be pulling away from the darker waters that instinct told her that they had just circled.
He turned away with that strange twisting shrug of his shoulders he affected and waved one hand towards the sea,
"That, luv, the only thing there really is."

Elanor was quiet for a moment, looking at him with uncertainty,
"Then why the fountain?"
"Do you not know?"
The darkness was back in his eyes and she decided that she knew enough, for the moment at least.
"Yes, " she said her voice as soft and silken as his, "Maybe I do at that."

He did not reply and he turned away from her to stare back towards the horizon. She waited for a moment the returned to her task

***

The week at anchor passed easily enough; by unspoken agreement there was no more discussion about the past or the motivations of the present, just hard work, uneasy conversation during shared meals and exhausted sleep. The skies stayed blue and the seas calm but other than a single excursion to the tiny island in search of fresh fruit and fish they remain on board doing as much as they could to prepare for whatever might face them in the weeks ahead.

Elanor was still keeping him well away from Ariadne but she had given way on other things and was teaching him the basics of running the Dawn Chaser by hand. In turn he gave her some lessons in the use of a sword, as well as a rapid education in the history and geography of the area as he knew of it. What little time remained he spent reading anything he could get his hands on, then subjecting her to a barrage of questions on the same. By the time they were preparing to return to Tortuga Elanor was glad of her lengthy and varied education, and even more curious about his past life.

He learned quickly, mastering the intricacies of the rigging with little effort, and accepting with silent nods her assurances that the strangeness he mentioned had a purpose. But though she was glad of that it only increased her unease. As always there was only one source of advice,
"He learns too quickly." she told Ariadne.
"Define too quickly, in the context of the current situation that is," came the dispassionate reply.
"I don't know. Somehow he gives the impression that he's little more than a barely literate fool who has just managed to pick up a few clever words here and there, but when it comes to it he understand too much too quickly, and he has no difficulties at all in following convoluted arguments or in knowing just which question to ask." She rubbed a hand over her neck where the sea wind had driven salt into her hair line,
"Maybe it's just about survival and surviving but I'm not sure."

"More than just a trick," Ariadne replied, "he seems able to speak several languages quite competently. Including Latin which he appears to both speak and read."
"Latin?" she demanded, "Well that's just showing off!"
"Maybe for you, but the historical data banks indicate that a working knowledge of Latin would have been required for any boy of this, or any comparable era, to be considered educated. However the lower ranks of society would have found little use for it."
"Most couldn't read at all and he can certainly do that. But Latin? That suggests that his education is wider than just reading and writing, which in turn indicates that his past is somewhat less plebeian than he tries to infer. But an educated man becoming a pirate? Is that likely?"
"It would not have been unique. A younger son perhaps, sent out to make his fortune in the east, one who went astray and was cut off."
"But he claims to have been born a pirate."
"Then the son or grandson of a younger son, one whose father has educated him in the traditions of a family they are now disowned by."
Elanor though of that for a moment,
"Curioser and curioser as they say. Though I had noticed than when he forgets his pirate speak his speech patterns are those of an educated person rather than a fisherman."

"But is this of any relevance?" Ariadne queried, "provided he can do what is required of him his education, and his station in this life, or lack of it, is of little importance. He seems more than competent to do the tasks you require of him."
"True. But it's one more reason to keep an eye on him, and another good reason to keep him away from you."
"That is certainly a valid point, though if he is to stay aboard he is going to have to get to know of me eventually."
"But not now, not until I understand him better, for the moment you had better stay a ghost in his mind. I am finding it hard to decide just how far I can trust him."
"Good sense would suggest only as far as you need to."
There was silence for a moment, and then Elanor sighed
"I know, but it gets tiring living in such close proximity to someone you don't understand and can't trust."
"Possibly, we must hope that he finds the same." Ariadne replied,
Elanor sighed again and ran her fingers though her hair with a rueful smile,
"Wishful thinking Ariadne, I get the impression that he has had a lot more practice at it than I have, and that worries me as much as anything else."
"All the more reason to keep him at arms length."
Elanor's smile became more rueful yet,
"I suppose so."

'And that is another totally different source of fatigue.' she thought to herself, but that was not something that Ariadne would understand. At least she hoped not.

***

The calm weather was breaking as they weighed anchor and headed back towards Tortuga, timing their arrival for several hours after dark when the largely respectable occupants of this part of the island would have sought their beds. The storms were spawning and growing in the deep ocean but had not come ashore yet, and the waters of the bay were calm as the Dawn Chaser slipped round the headland and dropped anchor at the same point as before. The clouds were racing in though, and the moon was shrouded, sending the cliffs once more into shadow, so it seemed unlikely that they would be seen from shore; however Elanor was more concerned about the expected light. They had agreed with Mr Gibbs that they would not launch the longboat until he had signalled them all was quiet, and that it was safe him to lower the rope down the cliff for Jack to climb.

So far there had been no signal and as the time ticked apply the tension on the deck rose. The would-be climber was seated astride the rail at the prow, fortifying himself against the coming ordeal with a bottle of rum liberated from its hiding place in the rope locker. Elanor made no comment but fetched the brandy from the galley and set a glass of it close to her hand as she watched the shore, willing the light to appear. It didn't.

In the end she knew that it had to be said and she crossed the deck to join him,
" He's not coming," she said.
"He'll be there," Jack didn't look at her as he replied,
She struggled to keep hold of her temper knowing that nerves were to blame for the surge of anger,
" How can you be so sure? He should have signalled by now."
Now he looked around at her
" I told you, he's a good man, good pirate."
She nodded wearily,
" Yes, I remember, but I also recall that he's one with a weakness for rum, he could be drunk somewhere."
Jack shook his head, trinkets shining and looked back towards the shore taking another swig from his bottle,
"Not Gibbs, drunk or sober he won't let us down."

He took another, deeper, swallow and hoped he was right.

But half an hour passed and still there was no signal. Elanor had returned to the helm, refilled her glass and turned her attentions to the scanners. It was as she feared, there was no sign of anyone on the headland. She raised her voice to be heard over the hiss if the swell,
"He's not there Jack, he's not coming."
With a sigh towards the sky Jack dismounted from the rail and strode across the deck, coming to stand beside her, rum bottle in hand. He stared down at the displays, then waved towards them with the bottle,
"That what your little lookouts's say is it?"
"Yes, there's no one on the headland, no one at all."
Jack squinted at the display in obvious displeasure,
"Your ghost's little helpers could be wrong, could they not?"
She drew a deep breath and kept her voice calm,
"No Jack they couldn't, at this distance they can see the heat from a cat, they wouldn't miss a man."
He seemed to think about that then he took another swallow of rum,
"He'll be there," he said again.
Elanor took a smaller drink from her glass and then another steadying breath,
"It's three hours passed the time we agree. Even allowing for the fact that Mr Gibbs has no time piece it's unlikely he would have missed us by this much, and there is still no one at around up there at all."
She pointed to the traces on the display,
"Look, these are the remnants of tonight's cooking fires, these are the buildings and their occupants, you can see for yourself that there is no one outside of the buildings. If Mr Gibbs is there then either he's asleep, drunk, or drugged. None of which are good possibilities from our point of view."

Jack took another deep swallow of rum, his knuckles white and tight in the deck light, then he sighed and considered the detectors as he swallowed it.
"Then something has gone wrong, Gibbs would be there if he could."
"Maybe, but we did leave him with a small fortune in his pocket." She raised a placatory hand before he could reply to that, " though I confess I'd be surprised if he absconded with it." She smiled at him grimly, "Though he may have drunk himself to death."
He shook his head,
"He'll not have done that, nor will he have played me false, not without good cause. Yes he may have drunk some, knew that he would, but he'll do what he undertook to do. If he's not there then there is a reason for it, and it's unlikely to be good news for him."

Elanor looked at him closely for a moment then took another swallow from her own glass; this was going to be difficult.
"So what do we do now? If he's got caught then someone is going to want to know why he was carrying so much money. I doubt he told them anything about us, and even if he has who's going to believe him? At least at the moment while no one seen the ship."
Jack stared out towards the horizon for a moment,
"Gibbs knows better than to be caught, and anyway there is no unlikely to try to catch him on Tortuga."
'Unless Barbossa had returned' he thought to himself, but he wasn't sharing that idea with her.
She nodded,
"But someone may have noticed his unexpected wealth, even though we warned him to be careful."
Jack thought about that for a moment then he nodded,
"Ay, they might," he looked towards her, "only one way to know."
She nodded again,
"One of us has to go and find out, unless we give up this idea of the fountain and rethink our plans completely."

Jack stared at her in silence for a second or two and then he turned towards the horizon and the black cliffs and the obvious lack of signal light; he shook his head slowly,
"Any man that falls behind gets left behind," he breathed the words so faintly she could barely catch them.
"What was that?"
"Pirate code, any man who falls behind gets left behind." He smiled at her faintly,"when you live outside the law you can't risk the ship, the crew, for one man; get caught and everyone hangs, no gain in that."
She thought about that for a moment then shrugged wearily,
"I suppose it makes a kind of sense, harsh though."
"Pirate life is harsh 'lanor, as I said no sense in risking all for one man, everyone knows what getting left behind means."
There was an undertone that made her ask,
"You ever been left behind Jack?"
"Aye, I've been left behind, more than once." his face was closed and distant, "never complained about it, nor held anyone to blame, 'tis the code and we all live by it."

She waited for him to say more but he remained silent, the bottle of rum swinging loosely in his hand, the shadow of unshared experiences hanging between them. Eventually she broke the mood,
"So do we leave Mr Gibbs behind?"
"We don't know that he's fallen behind," the distant expression was lost in a cold smile and his voice became soft, "besides we need him. Rather we need to know what happened to him."
Eleanor shrugged wearily,
"That's true unless we plan to rethink things completely." She rubbed her forehead and took another swig of brandy, "even then I'd be more comfortable knowing what happened to him."
Jack nodded slowly in agreement,
"So would I luv, so would I. Navy'll be looking for me, few others too." He looked back towards the shore, "lower the longboat."

She took another swig of brandy and stared at him through narrowed eyes,
"I can't wait to hear Jack, it will be light before you know anything at all and I won't stay anchored here in daylight."
He turned and came to stand in front of her, so close they were almost nose to nose, she didn't give way but met his eyes steadily. He smiled but there was no humour in it, nor softness, and his eyes were black and bleak, then he leant back a little, looking at her down the bridge of his nose, tension in every line of him,
"No more than what I'd expect, no less than I'd do meself. Captain must look to the safety of the ship." he said easily.
But there was a fire in his eyes, and something close to sorrow that she couldn't place.

She nodded
"So what's your plan?" she said.
He grimaced and took a step back, and another swig of rum, his mouth twisting in something she couldn't read, then he flipped his hand towards the shore,
"Gibbs said his Polly would do me no harm, have to put it to the test won't I? Pay her a visit and see what she knows. With luck he'll be there, sick or drunk. If not….. well then she'll know when he left and when he planned to return."
He turned and put the run bottle down on the chart table and began to shrug on his coat,
"Give me a day to see how the land lies, return tomorrow at the same time and follow the plan. I'll signal you from the shoreline to let you know I'm on my way back."
He pulled his baldric over his head, then stopped and pointed a finger at her,
"If you don't see the signal then bring no one on board, let your ghost do her worst."
She nodded, neither of them need to say more on that subject.

"Will you make it up the cliffs?" she asked instead.
He grinned in mocking delight,
"I'm Jack Sparrow, course I will."
But she couldn't help but see the dislike of the idea in his face.

As he started the climb down the ladder she caught at his arm,
"If there is no light tomorrow Jack, do you expect me to come looking for you?"
He froze for a moment his face turned down towards the boat, then he looked at her with serious eyes,
" You do what seems best to you, but I'll not condemn you if you keep to the code."
"I'm no pirate Jack," she protested.
"Are you not?" he said and shrugged, "then you do whatever seems right by you."
"As you would?"
His smile flashed gold,
"As I would."

Then he turned and climbed rapidly down to the waiting boat and took up oars without another look in her direction.