Chapter 15 A Day in Tortuga
The cart arrived at the dockside as the sun started to sink towards the darker clouds of the west, and just as the first warning winds of the second storm began to shake the trees and rattle the windows and doors of the more makeshift hovels. Ben heaved a sign of relief, thankful that they had arrived before the worst of the weather, but that feeling was destined to be short lived. Elanor had spent the last mile or so lounging in the back of the cart and keeping her head down, but now she rose and vaulted to the uneven cobbles with easy grace. Immediately Ben felt the attention of passers-by turn towards them. His mother had been right when she had said that there was no way of hiding his passenger. Her height alone drew attention and her long legs were straight and strong; that, and her clear and unblemished skin, made it clear to any one who looked that she came from a line of some pedigree.
The shirt she was now wearing was his, its worn greyness like a hundred others seen about the town, but, though it flapped around her more loosely than the silk of her own garment, it still couldn't deny the femaleness of her. Not when every breath of wind seemed to conspire to draw attention to the fac; not even with the borrowed threadbare jacket trying to hold it down. The reddening sun flamed on her hair, tied in a bundle near thick as three fingers and falling way down her back, and set a halo of sparks dancing around her head. The failing rays of day slanted low, skimming her cheekbones, shadowing her throat and tingeing the pale and perfect skin rosy. In truth she shrieked of wealth and ease and all those things that the residents of Tortuga could only imagine, but that they would covet too.
Yet it was that same air, along with the pistol and the knife visible in her belt and the cudgel that Ben withdrew from the hay around his feet, which also kept them at a distance and their voices lowered. Whoever she was it was clear to all who saw her that she represented trouble; the occupants of the Tortuga dockside had seen that often enough to have no difficulties in recognising it.
It was a child that drew close first, a girl child by its dress but that was by no means sure given the thinness of its frame and the grime that coated it. She, if that was indeed what it was, held up clasped hands in the time honoured posture of the beggar and Ben tensed remembering the pearls that Gibbs had brought back from this woman's ship, and the diamonds she had removed from her ears before they set out. Any sign of such largesse here would probably result in clandestine, and probably unpleasant, death of both of them within the hour despite her aura of power.
To hius releif Captain Cavendish seemed to have no trouble in recognising the request but also more sense than to open her purse in so public a place, instead she drew one of the farthings she had borrowed from his mother from her pocket and spun it in the air.
"I will pay for what I've come in search of," she said softly to the child, "and will reward all those who can lead me any way towards my goal."
The child's eyes brightened at the sight of the coin and the little figure raised its hands higher in mute appeal,but said nothing.
A grimy woman came from behind them to stand beside the child, her apron hanging limp and unwashed over the tattered skirts, kilted to her knee and showing bare legs marked by scars and bruises of varying ages. Even at this distance Ben could smell the unmistakable stink of fish offal on her and knew her to be one of the gutters from the smoke sheds. She stood arms akimbo beside the child he assumed to be her own,
"An wat would such a fine besom as yersel be looking for hereabouts?" Her voice was a strange and disturbing mix of threatening growl and beggar's whine.
Ben felt the fear bite and he gripped his cudgel more tightly, for Captain Cavendish said nothing, seeming almost shocked, staring from the woman to the child with a frown between her brows. Then she seemed to shake herself; taking a deep breath and drawing up to her full height she looked down into the woman's red rimmed eyes without fear and yet also without offence. Whatever was in that look it did its work for the woman stepped back half a pace, her arms falling to her side and the glare disappearing from her eyes; her voice became more hesitant yet also tinged with something that sounded close to hope.
"If it please yer mam, I'll do what I can ta be of service t' ya."
The captain looked at her steadily for a moment longer then nodded before she raised her head and let her eyes wander over the people who were appearing at doorways all around them. Ben saw more than one of the small crowd cross themselves and he looked down to reassure himself that the machete still lay on the seat. Something he couldn't read flashed through the captain's face, though surprise was some part of it, and maybe horror, then the expression was gone and her face was as serene as the angel she looked to be. She turned her eyes back towards the woman in front of her,
"A man, I'm looking for a man."
Ben's heart sank for he could imagine the response that those words, from such as her, was likely to bring. Nor was he mistaken,
"Aren't we all lovey," came a shrill female voice from the shadows, "but ye'll not find one here about. Leastways if ya do then tell us," she indicated another shadow behind her, "an' we'll share him with ya."
That sally brought a laugh or two sure enough, but they sounded uneasy, and the bawdy invitations, of which he had expected a plenty, were few and far between.
Captain Cavendish smiled towards the women, the speaker was now lounging in the doorway, and she inclined her head towards them,
"I thank you for the offer madam," somehow she managed to match her tone to theirs, for all her voice and accent was so different, "but I am looking for a very particular man, one that I seem to have misplaced," she looked back to the woman still standing in front of her, "and, as I said, I'm willing to pay to find him."
"How'd ya lose him then?"
The woman from the doorway was not giving up on the exchange. She had edged out of the shadows and in the light her red wig and low cut bodice shouted her profession, but she sounded good natured enough,
"Slipped away in the night did he? Shame. Not uncommon mind. Known a few like that mesel', rotten bastards that they be, and poor memories they have too, for they always forget to leave the coin."
If she had thought to shock then she missed her mark for the captain's smile held genuine amusement and she just nodded as if in agreement,
"Or of failing eyesight, for they left tin when the service deserved gold maybe?" she said sympathetically.
The woman gave a crack of laughter and pointed a battered fan in Elanor's direction,
"Aye I've known a few of those too. If it's one such as that ya' be looking for I'd advise ya ta leave him where he is madam and get ya home, for he's not worth it."
Elanor nodded again,
"If he is one such as that I'd agree with you, but I've no reason to believe that he is. Unless you can tell me different?"
She looked around her, briefly meeting the eyes of a few before moving on, then back to woman and child near to her,
"I'm looking for Captain Jack Sparrow," she said calmly," and I'm willing to pay to find him."
A general sigh arose from the onlookers and more than one person gave a knowing smile; the woman in the red wig snapped her fan and gave a short wry laugh.
"Jack Sparra! Should a guessed! Who else would one such as ya be lookin' for here? Heard he'd taken to keeping company with fine ladies, though much good tha' it seems to have done him. Know him well do ya?"
Elanor looked back towards the whore with a smile,
"Well enough, we've..... matters to discuss and, as I said, I've misplaced him. Someone told me he might be here. "
The whore shrugged and regarded her with something close to pity,
"Ay well, as I said afore, ye'd not be the first fancy lady that Jack Sparra has had business with," the emphasis she laid on the word betrayed her meaning, "but he's not be seen in near a month. Plenty of others looking for him too." She frowned in sudden suspicion, "be they anything ta do with ya business?"
Elanor shook her head, and gave her most angelic smile. Ben saw the frowns and muttered comments that the expression caused, and the way many people drew back a little, and he gripped the cudgel tighter. But no one offered any threat; and though the captain rested her hands on her belt in a suggestive manner she continued the conversation amiably enough, apparently unconcerned.
"Most emphatically not. In fact warning him of them is one part of my reason in seeking for him." She shot the woman a direct look, "our relations were cordial enough when we last saw each other," let them make of that what they would, " but he missed our meeting and matters are such that I need to find him quickly."
She saw the woman's eyes flicker to her waist and smiled again,
"But I assure you that he will have no reluctance to be found once he knows that I am looking."
The fishwife spoke up again,
"If Jack Sparra be here then Gibbs would know,"
She looked towards Elanor with a burst of hope and Ben had no problems in reading her thoughts, a small coin from the captain would be a days food and rum for her and her child, and if she could do anything to claim it then she would.
"I know those ta' will know where he be, if he be in town mam." She said. "I'll go and ask if ya but tell me as where ta find ya when I knows."
Elanor looked around her with wide eyed interest, but Ben was now sure she was not near as green to the ways of the world as she might at first have appeared, and he was not surprised when she settled herself on the tail of the cart and pulled a bottle of his mothers' providing from the straw,
"I'll be here till sundown," she said then looked towards the darkening cloud, "weather permitting," she added with a slight smile.
The fishwife dipped her head and grabbed the child's hand before she hurried away.
The whore seemed disinclined to offer further help, though Ben was sure that she and her companions knew more of the missing pirate than they were admitting, but they continued to look at Captain Cavendish with curious eyes and he wondered if they would offer her the hospitality of their house while she waited. But the woman in the red wig seemed to change her mind and, with a casual nod and swaying hips, she disappeared back in doors, shepherding those still in the shadows before her. At their leaving others began to drift away too and slowly the small crowd thinned until just the occasional lounging man could be seen dallying in the tavern doorways. But Ben could feel the hidden eyes watching them from all sides and so he gripped his cudgel all the tighter and hoped that Jack Sparrow was found before nightfall.
***
The rising wind thwarted Jack's intention to sleep until sundown, that and Gibbs return with a mug of ale.
"Got the grapples," he grunted as he passed the mug over to a sleepy eyed Jack, "but the cart might be a problem."
"Oh, why?" Jack grimaced as he took a swig of ale and wondered if it were the Mermaids usual brew, if it were then it might account for why he had never been a customer.
Gibbs shrugged,
" 'Nother storm comin' everything's locked and barred."
Jack gave a gold flecked smile, though his eyes seemed strained,
"Locks are for picking mate."
"Aye that may be the case in the usual way, but not in the dark and ragin wind and rain, and that what looks to be a headin' our way." Gibbs frowned, "By nightfall the front edge should be on us and it'll be a powerfully unpleasant night. Storms at sea are one thing, storms on land..... well they be another."
Gibbs watched as Jack took another half hearted swig of ale then shrugged,
"That's as maybe, but I want to be away from this pit before morn." He frowned down into his ale, "So we climb the gate if need be, not the first time, no reason to believe it will be the last. The weather might yet prove to be our friend, it should keep everyone behind doors and cover any necessary noise."
That seemed to be all he was going to say on the matter. Gibbs tried again,
"Cart I have in mind is kept down near the market, no one around there after dark. Owner will be dead drunk by sundown and the mule is stabled close by. No taverns nor bawdy houses there, odd shack or two but people there know when to look the other way. Could wait till tomorrow. No need for all that walkin' in the rain."
Jack said nothing for a moment but then he gave one of those complicated shrugs that could indicate either disagreement or irritation, or both. Finally he shook his head,
"Tonight."
Gibbs pursed his lips in consideration of that then ambled across and sat down beside him,
"Why tonight 'specially. If Captain Cavendish is comin' back at all then she'll wait for us. If not? Well then we can leave the goods at Pol's and bide our time until a suitable ship docks. We've still funds enough to provision and find a crew, we can hole up at Pol's with no one the wiser."
That brought a more emphatic shake of Jack's head,
"No. We go tonight. Elanor will be there I'm, sure of it, well nearly sure of it, and we need to be off this rock as soon as it can be managed."
"What be the hurry Jack? Tis more than concern that the lady won't wait. The fountain not be goin' anywhere and nor is Barbossa while you have the chart. So what is it that's in your mind?"
That brought him a sharp look quickly followed by a sigh and flick of an impatient hand,
"If the navy is here then I don't want to be, savvy? That man Graves or Groves or ... whatever.. is bad news for someone mate, not keen that it's me." Jack frowned, "But it's me he's looking for and I don't want him finding me. Not even here in Tortuga."
For a moment Gibbs thought about that, then he swallowed the last of his ale and leaned closer to Jack as if afraid of being overheard,
"You know why he be looking don't you? You know what it is that he wants and it's not just your hangin' is it?"
Jack smiled slowly,
"Most certainly not. I don't think he wants my death at all, not yet at least. In fact I'd hazard that preventing my death is well up his list of concerns at this moment in time."
He stared out towards the open barn door and the failing light and the fallen leaves already dancing feverishly in the alley, he sighed deeply,
"Thought it might occur," he said reflectively, "but didn't think it would be so soon. Not sure why it is so soon either but it's inconvenient to be sure, and that makes me certain that not being found is to be desired. Not until things are more.. settled."
Gibbs stared at him in frustration, it made his head ache when Jack became cryptic, well more cryptic than usual. There was no point in asking him to explain, for any further explanation would be more confusing still, and possibly by intention. So he contented himself with rolling his eyes, and nodding,
"Suppose you know your business best."
To his surprise Jack responded to that with a solemn and weary look,
"Not only my business mate, that's part of the difficulty. Wish it were, then there would be no worries."
He waved his mug,
" Watch yourself Mr Gibbs for you might well be of interest to them too, and not knowin' what there is to be known is not likely to be protection against their misunderstanding of what there is to be known and who might know it..... if you take my meaning."
"Aye sir," Gibbs said seriously, though in truth he had no idea what it was that Jack was talking about.
"They can't get at Teague," Jack said softly as if Gibbs hadn't spoken, "and I think that Calypso will deal with Barbossa, though he knows only a part of it. But you Mr Gibbs, they might well reason that you know too."
"Aye they might at that." Gibbs agreed, though he had no more understanding of what his captain was talking about than he had when they started. "So we go tonight?"
Jack stood up and reached for his coat and hat,
"So we go tonight, sooner we're at sea better for all concerned," he said.
He shrugged on his baldric and settled his sword on his hip then carefully placed his hat on his head at the right angle,
"In the meantime I need something to wash the taste of that ale away and fortify me against the coming exertions. Rum would be good."
With that he strode out of the door and turned towards the tavern.
***
The sun was well down towards the horizon, though hidden by piles of black tinged cloud, before the fish wife returned with her child, and a bedraggled looking man, in tow.
"This be Able" she said, "He knows the man Gibbs well and 'as news of him an' Captain Sparra."
She looked towards Elanor with a mix of fear and hope, anxious for the promised coin but only too aware that there might only be payment for one. Clearly Able had not shared his knowledge with her, a fact that Elanor found more reassuring than the man's appearance. But she had no desire for the woman to become privy to whatever it was that he knew and there was little doubt that payment was all that would send her on her way, though paying both of them might make her appear an easy mark. Still that risk would have to be run, so she reached into her pocket and pulled out three pennies for the woman and a farthing for the child
"I said I would pay for information whatever it was and so I will," she said as she dropped them into the dirty hands stretching out towards her.
The woman grabbed the coins before her benefactor could change her mind, bobbed her head and scurried away before Abel could protest at her payment and demand it for himself.
When she was gone out of earshot Elanor turned to the man she had named Abel,
"So you know Mr Gibbs?"
"Aye that I do mam. We shared a bottle few day or so ago, he tole me that Jack Sparra might come looking for him."
The man shot her a curious sideways glance,
"Expect you'd be that high steppin' lady he tole me about too?"
Elanor cursed silently and wondered what Gibbs drunken meandering had betrayed,
"I might be," she replied calmly enough maintaining her serene expression despite her irritation.
The man gave a silent laugh, the thin shoulders shaking with apparent mirth,
"You are sure enough. Thought that he be spinnin' a yarn for he be good at that and fond of taking about fanciful folk and their doin's. Nat tat he said a lat, only tat he hoped Jack Sparra knew what he was about to be throwin' his hat into ya ring. Didn't make sense t'time, do now right enough. Powerful trouble for a man you might be I'm thinkin'." He doffed his greasy hat towards her with ironic civility and gave a small bow accompanied by a sly smile, "with respect mam."
She smiled but didn't rise to the offered bait,
"Did Jack come looking?"
"Aye that he did, two days ago. Me did as Gibbs asked." Abel's eyes slid to her pocket and his brows rose in expectation.
Elanor dropped one hand into the same pocket and jingled some coins. Ben appeared at Abel's shoulder with his cudgel in clear view, Abel's brows rose further at the gesture,
"Na need for unpleasantness mam, Gibbs mentioned that if aught went wrong it might be this fine young man or even yersel' that came looking next and that I was do as I were bid. That I will."
Elanor smiled again,
"I promised payment, do as you were bid and it's yours, " she drew out three shillings, letting him see them before she palmed them, then she pulled another shilling from her other pocket, "and keep this between ourselves."
The man reached out his hand and Elanor's smile widened to one Jack himself would have been proud of, she spoke softly,
"But cheat me, betray me, or Jack, and I'll take all of it back and as much again in your hide. You will not see me coming, but come I will."
To her surprise Abel just nodded in apparent approval,
"As I said, powerful trouble. No fear lady, Gibbs is as close to friend as I call any man and Jack Spaara, well crossin' him would not go well."
She held out the coins,
"So where did you send him?"
***
Jack had the look of a man well settled for the night, for he had a pot of rum in one hand and the waist of the serving girl in the other. He'd been flirting without pause for more than two hours now, the gold in his smile and the light in his eyes drawing every woman in the place to him like a moth to a flame. Their hands too, for it seemed that they couldn't pass without touching him, the beads in his hair, the rings on his hands, the long braids trailing down his back, the ends of his scarf, all were visited by venturesome fingers. The more determined of them leant into his shoulder as they refilled his cup, bending round him to better show off the mounds of their breasts and the swell of their hips.
Gibbs buried his smile in his tankard; no doubt Jack had more than one offer on the table, for the Mermaid was not the usual haunt of pirate captains, certainly not those who had been the subject of more than one street corner ballad and many a news sheet. A pirate lord was as close to royalty as these girls would ever see, or bed, and they intended to make the most of the opportunity, for the story of it would obtain them credit for many a long day. Sampson kept the rum coming for the same reason, though Gibbs wondered just how much of it Jack was actually drinking.
But though he smiled and smirked and wrapped his arm around the occasional waist Jack was being more than usually restrained. His fingers might stroke the hand that poured the rum but they stayed on the table and ventured no further, he might pull a maid onto his knee for a casual caress as she played with his hair, but his wanderings took him no where that wasn't already on show; and though he smiled at the words whispered towards his ear and returned the looks of open admiration with a slow burning gaze that seemed to speak of desire and promise, he remained at the table and his eyes continually flitted back towards the door. If Gibbs had been in any doubt of his determination to leave that evening his skilful evasions of the offers of a trip up the stairs betrayed his impatience to be gone.
That, or something else that Gibbs really did not want to speculate upon.
As the wind rose and the rain started to beat against the shutters Jack lazily disengaged from the particularly venturesome brunette sprawled across his lap with a graceful smile and lingering kiss on her neck,
"Ladies it seems I must make my apologies. Cuts me to the quick it does to have to leave such entrancing company but the sea calls and I have matters that must be settled by dawn." His face settled into a picture of soft eyed regret, "Pity me for the poor deprived wretch I am, driven out into the storm rather than the harbour of your undeniable charms, but a captain's duties are onerous and I must be about mine."
The wails and protests that started up all around him brought another glinting smile to Jack's face, but he rose, picked up his hat from the table and swept a bow the like of which the ladies of the Mermaid were unlikely to have seen before. With a quirk of his eyebrows towards Gibbs he began his saunter towards the door, taking affectionate leave of every serving wench in the place, and few of the comelier customers, as he went.
To Gibbs his exit seemed to take forever, as at every swaggering step he took he was draped around by another set of female arms, pouted at, smiled at, stroked, petted and generally given the impression that their survival was dependent upon his promise of return. Promises that Jack gave freely, each one accompanied by a caress and a hot-eyed smile. Gibbs would once have wondered how the man managed it, now he knew better, Jack would recall each one of these promises and might even take everyone one of them up if the chance presented itself; much to the annoyance of the more up market ladies of the town who counted him their own. In the years that he'd known him Jack's energy and enthusiasm had never shown signs of flagging, and, judging by the reception he so often received, nor did his stamina. Watching him as he made his parade towards the door Gibbs wondered where it came from and what was going on behind those smiling eyes as he played this well known game to the hilt. He might never return here but they would always remember him and hope that he would. To Gibbs it seemed to be a kind of magic.
Finally they were at the door, Gibbs going first to check the coat was clear. The brunette pushed her way forward to pull Jack to her, demanding the embrace she had not wrung from him all evening, he obliged her this time, not hurrying it but not removing his one hand from the latch either. Then he put her away from him and, as she was still apparently catching her breath, he flashed another smile and slid out into the night.
***
Elanor arrived at the Mermaid not ten minutes after Jack had left, but it had taken her twice as long again to get the information that she wanted, though some part of that delay had been taken up by her own fascinated horror at the tap room and its occupants. The girls were no older than those she had seen by quay but they were plainer, less brightly dressed and painted and the grime on them was more obvious. Though most appeared to be serving women she knew that their duties would often extend well beyond pouring drinks, and that probably accounted for the worn and weary look about them. Female customers were few and those that she could see had the same look of weary resignation overlaid by a rum fuelled humour. The men at the scattered tables had the appearance of deckhands and market labourers, strong and surly looking, with a smattering of small traders and apprentices taking their only meal of the day, the contents of each plate looking to be the same as the next, a kind of stew and dumplings. She could only guess what they had made of Jack, and meeting the envious eyes of the dark haired girl she first sought information from she thought it better not to speculate.
The response to her in this stuffy poorly lit room was much as it had been a quay, but she felt more malice here, and more threat, and she was glad that Ben remained at her shoulder.
"Jack Sparrow, I know he's been here for I was directed here by a friend of Mr Gibbs. I need to find them, both of them"
Some of the hostility disappeared at the mention of his name but the resentful glances continued and she got no information until the landlord returned.
Sampson saw her as soon as he re-entered the taproom, for Gibbs descriptions had been both vivid and accurate, far more so then he would ever have believed. She was all that he had said she was and was as out of place in this place as a lily on a slurry pit. But by his judgement Gibbs had been right when he said she was no soft mark either and Sampson took a moment to wonder what business she and Jack Sparrow were cooking up, and whether his friend knew what it was he might be getting himself involved in. But then Gibbs had sailed with Jack Sparrow before would know well the dangers the man could bring, yet this woman might be a different matter, and he wanted her out of his house as soon as it could be managed.
He frowned at the cluster of girls glaring at her from a corner and sent them back about their business with a jerk of his head before he crossed to where she was sitting , her back carefully faced towards the wall. He cast a quick look at the young man standing at shoulder but though the sentry frowned at his approach he made no move.
"Ye be looking for Jack Sparrow I hear?"
"Yes, I was told to ask for him here. By Able."
He nodded knowing that she offered the name as proof of her identity and good intention.
"Aye so I thought" he looked passed her to the young man still stiff and suspicious, "You'll be Ben. Brought the cart have ye? Ye can save them a deal of trouble if ye have"
Ben stared at him for a moment then nodded.
"Good. Then we had best be on our way or we may miss them."
The woman stared at him for a moment with wide green eyes before she cast a short look up at the man behind her. Sampson knew what was going through her mind,
"Be your choice lady, I'll lead ye to them if ye chose to trust me, but only ye can decide if its wise or no."
Moments later they were stepping out into the worsening night.
***
The rain was not quite the torrent it would become but it soaked them quickly enough and by the time they made the market place they were wet through, only Sampson shrouded in oilskins could make any claim to be comfortable. The heavy drops spattered in the kennel in the middle of the street, raising the dust before turning it to mud, splashing the legs of the mule as it trudged on. The wind had strengthened again, drowning out the sound of the mule's hooves and the wheel's groans, around them the trees could be seen bending and swaying in the rough land that bordered the road. Doors and windows were already shuttered and everywhere was dark, for there was no moon and the force of the wind had soon extinguished the few lamps and candles. Occasionally the sound of a child's wailing would be heard as they passed a door, and once or twice the stamp of cattle hooves caused the mule to flick her ears as they passed by a stable or barn.
The wind also drowned out the sound of footsteps, and heavy breathing and the rasp of steel on steel and so there was no warning before they came upon the fight.
In the darkness the figures were hard to determine and even more difficult count, only the swing of a coat betraying the identity of one of the participants.
Elanor had just time to think 'what has he got himself into now' before she found herself following Ben and Sampson in jumping to the ground and heading towards the melee.