Disclaimer: I own no part of Pirates of the Caribbean. Original characters and plots belong to me.

Chapter 25

Edge of Survival

A dark, silent abyss below. A heraldic device above my head. Something you'd find on a coat-of-arms. What did they call it?

A dexter arm embowed, with hand grasping a sword proper. Yes, that was it.

The hand opened and the sword fell slowly past me, tumbling end over end, golden sparks of light dancing along the blade, all fading to black.

A thing of beauty, gone forever.

I slept.

...

My throat seized up, snapping me awake with a violent urge to cough. I couldn't breathe through my nose and my stomach heaved, wanting to be rid of everything I'd ever eaten. Under my back was a flat, sandy surface instead of a nice warm berth.

A hand pushed me roughly onto my side, and my nose was released. Sopping wet, I doubled over, choking out sea water which burned every inch of the way from my stomach to my mouth. Someone was holding me by one shoulder and rubbing my back.

Hector.

"Easy, lass," he said. "Tis over now."

My head, like every other inch of my body, throbbed. Had we been in a shipwreck? Groggy, I sat up and looked about, eyes watering, nose dripping, and throat so raw I couldn't speak. Everything was a jumble, flashes of events that I couldn't piece together.

"I pulled ye out when the waves swallered ye," he said. "An' now we've been spat up by the sea...somewhere." He produced a flask from his pocket and offered it to me.

I cleared my throat very gingerly and took a small sip. "Why don't I remember?" I managed to croak.

"'Tis often the case when ye nearly drown." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "Take a few more swigs. Ye'll find ye remember more, presently."

I staggered to my feet. Hector rose at the same time and caught my elbow, steadying me as I drank. But something about my clothes wasn't right-I was wearing a saidi dress. There had been a dinner and...Ponce de Leon. Then I recalled music. "I was dancing..." I looked at Hector.

"Aye." It was too dark to see his expression, but his manner was terse.

Another memory stirred. We were in a small boat, and the wind was roaring, making huge waves. I had feared I wouldn't live. "You said there was a storm."

He bowed his head for a moment and sighed. "The Sword called the winds."

A picture flashed through my mind. A sword. The Sword that could call the winds. Was that also the sword in my dream? The treasure Hector had dreamed of possessing, that we had captured from Ponce de Leon.

I stole several looks at him, even casting a quick glance at the ground, but there was no sign of any Sword.

"If it can call the winds," he said wearily, "Then it stands t' reason..."

I pressed my hand against my forehead. "Please. I'm so confused. You had the Sword, didn't you? Where is it now?"

He tightened his mouth and gave a brief shrug. "Lost in the storm. Once the sea took it, the winds dropped down."

For a moment, the meaning of his words eluded me, but then he offered his hand. I suppressed a gasp. It was Hector whose hand I'd seen, not in a dream but in some final delirium. But he would never have intentionally thrown away such a treasure - surely not for my sake. That part must have been my fevered imagination. No, he must have lost his grip on it whilst pulling me from the sea.

I could have wept, thinking how he must resent me. "I've cost you your prize. Oh, Hector..."

"Ye cost me nothin'," he said fiercely. Tipping my chin up, he locked eyes with me. "Me prize be standin' before me. I had the choice o' two treasures an' took the one I wanted." He took my shoulders and gave me a little squeeze. "Don't ye ever doubt it."

He leaned in closer as he spoke, then kissed me firmly.

In the passion of that kiss, I recognised the sign I had longed for, the pledge I had been seeking from him. Ever since the heartache and betrayal of Tortuga, I had been waiting for some indefinable moment that would sweep away all my doubt and tears. Now, I accepted. I believed.

"Never." I wrapped my arms about him. "I'll never doubt it."

He cradled my head against his coat lapel. "No more foolishness about costin' me," he rasped. "Ye need rest. Tomorrow we'll see what we've to do."

Arm in arm, we made our way to an area of soft, dry sand. As we settled in for the night, I began to wonder where we were and what might become of us. Had we pitched up on a shore that was unfamiliar to either one of us? If we were now in some part of the world where no trading ships passed, what would we do?

I nestled closer to Hector, putting all my hopes in his ability to survive. Surely he would find a way out of our difficulties. And he had chosen me-me, over the Sword of Triton. At last, the man who was the centre of my life had shown me my place in his. These thoughts vanquished all my fears, and I began to drowse.

...

Soft bands of light waved gently across my eyelids. As I slowly awakened, I could distinguish the sound of the ocean nearby, and the patterns of light and shadow resolved themselves into the long leaves of palm fronds, moving lazily to and fro above me.

I was lying on my back, arms at my sides. Confused, I crabbed my fingers a bit, and felt warm sand. Dreams mixed with memories. Was I Ponce de Leon's captive? And where was Hector?

With a gasp, I sat bolt upright.

The glare of the sun made me blink and shade my eyes. Hector was sitting nearby, having evidently been looking towards the horizon. My sudden awakening must have made him turn his head. He gave me no 'good morning', and regarded me with an air that was anything but friendly.

"So, when was ye plannin' on tellin' me?" he asked.

"When did I plan on telling you?" I frowned, uncomprehending.

He moved closer and rested his hand on my belly. I flushed scarlet with mortification and guilt. "When?" he repeated. "I've been wonderin', but I thought ye'd say somethin'. Now ye don't have to-I can see fer meself." He paused. "So when did ye mean t' tell me, missus?"

"I tried, more than once," I said, feeling the beginnings of defiance take hold of me, "but there was always some danger at hand. I knew you'd take it ill. I knew you'd say we had an accord-but we didn't!" I rushed on before he could interrupt. "I only told you that I understood. I never said I agreed."

He gave me an odd look, somewhere between disbelief and enlightenment. I thought he must find it strange that I was as capable as he was of parsing my words and finding a loophole. But I was not about to engage in debate.

"You needn't worry," I said. "I won't discommode you in any way. I've already given this a good deal of thought. I need to stay away from the court until after the baby is born. I'm supposed to pass unnoticed among the courtiers-I can't attract attention or scandal, so-"

He looked as if he might speak, but I took a quick breath and went on before he could argue.

"-so I'll join Rufus and Jen in St Thomas. Afterwards, if I'm summoned, I'll have to return alone. But the moment I can do so, I'll produce the baby as a niece or nephew-only the friends I trust will know the truth. And I do have friends-old friends of my family-who will help me."

He lifted his brows, but I wasn't finished.

"I don't want money from you. I've pitched upon smuggling as a good business to defray expenses. And Elizabeth can join me-we've already made money from a venture through Mr Defoe. We can use that money to purchase a small boat, perhaps a lugger. With a small crew, we can do short runs from France, and-"

Scowling, he clapped a hand over my mouth. "Enough!" he roared.

I pulled away, bracing for his outrage, but he merely shook his head.

"I see ye've made yer plans," he allowed grudgingly. "Money, friends o' the family...Thought of everything, it seems."

There was a long, tense silence between us. Then he muttered: "I s'pose it'd kill ye t' let me look after ye."

I let this idea sink in for a moment. "I thought your position was 'no brats'."

He narrowed his eyes. "An' that be the true reason ye were so backward about tellin' me," he said. "So spare me yer protestations o' 'danger at hand'. The only danger that had ye frighted was me!"

Tears welled in my eyes. "I knew you'd be angry. When you don't get what you want, no one can reach you." My face pinched as I began to cry hopelessly. "Your heart is harder than a diamond."

"Did I not tell ye I love ye?" he asked, a sharp glitter in his eyes.

"You did. Some time ago." On the night he had asked for my hand in marriage, in fact.

"Naught's changed. Nor ever will. Always did, always will."

He offered me his hand, and when I took it, he drew me close and petted me, nuzzling my ear. "Do ye know how they cut diamonds?" he said in a softer tone. "There be a weak point in any stone. When it be struck in the right place, well..."

He tipped my chin up and gazed at me with the bright blue eyes that had first won my heart. As he leaned towards me, my eyes began to close, and he pressed his warm, heavy lips against my eager mouth.

I threw my arms about his neck and he gave me more of the kisses I craved, holding me tightly and caressing my back.

"Ye married an old rogue," he murmured, scratchy whiskers brushing against my ear. "Ye could have found a better man, but none that loves ye more."

Marooned we might be, facing starvation and death, but my heart could have danced. "There's no one like you, Hector. Yours is the only love I've ever wanted," I said, as perfect happiness descended on me.

...

We knew not whether we were on an island or the mainland, but finding fresh water was our first order of business. There were unfamiliar green hills behind us, so we agreed to make our way along the beach first, since any stream or river must run down to the sea.

As we walked, I surveyed the horizon. I feared we were far from any part of the ocean that Hector recognised. Worse still, I saw no ships, and the curve of the shore suggested that we were on some remote island. Without nothing to drink we would die here quickly, but even if we found water, how long could we survive?

I was trying to reckon our lives in days and even hours, but then Hector began to talk of the future as if it were ours for the taking. This restored some of my confidence that we would be rescued, although his ideas were enough to make me laugh aloud.

"Perhaps, since ye be under the King's protection, he might grant ye the property at Highcliffe," he ventured, darting me a quick, sidelong look.

I stopped walking. "Did I hear you correctly?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps ye might beg a favour of him."

"I have done," I replied, still stunned by Hector's proposal. "I begged him to take Highcliffe from me in exchange for sending a man o' war to Pencarren and pardoning you, Jack and my father! And now you want me to beg him again? This time, to give back what I bargained away?"

"Ye must think o' the future," he lectured me. "What be best fer me son?"

My mouth fell open. "Your son?" I stammered.

"Well...our son, then. Ye have a right to that property, bargain notwithstanding. And yer grandfather were a viscount - ye should be made a-" He moved his head impatiently, searching for a title. "-a duchess or somethin'. T'would give our lad a better start in life than I had."

He spoke with great conviction, and I saw that he was sincere if misinformed. Although I had no intention of indulging his absurd plan, I thought I might let him cool off a bit before we discussed matters.

I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow. "Of course I want what's best for him, my heart."

We exchanged smiles, and I continued. "Or, just possibly, for her, on the off chance that I bear you a daughter."

His eyes widened at the word.

"But you must give me a little time to think how and when to approach the King on it." I rose up on my toes and kissed his cheek. When we resumed walking, Hector seemed deep in thought.

We had gone about two furlongs when we spied the mouth of a stream pouring out over the sands. After drinking our fill of the clear, fresh water, we continued on our way, although the day was becoming quite warm. A short distance away, the shore veered off to the right, behind a rocky outcropping.

"Stay back," Hector cautioned. "I'll have a look first." Leaving me to wait, he strode off and disappeared round the corner.

I had had enough of yielding to my commanding husband. I counted quickly to ten, and then followed him. I found him standing just beyond my line of sight, and we both stared at what lay before us. "I'll be damned!" he said softly.

Wedged between the rocks and heeled over about thirty degrees to larboard, was the Berwick.

She was missing one mast and nearly all her sails, and her stern lay much lower than her bow, but I was jubilant. If we could salvage any provisions, they might keep us from starvation whilst we awaited rescue.

"I suppose I'm a wrecker now," I shouted to Hector as we both hastened towards the ship.

"Nay!" he rejoined with a grin. "I hereby claim the Berwick an' grant ye salvage rights, so ye ain't a wrecker, m' sweet. I hope her cargo still be dry."

I seized a broken spar that had fallen to the sand, and jabbed at the ship's hull, where I knew her Jacob's ladder was rolled up. After a few attempts, assisted by Hector, the ladder unrolled, and we scrambled up onto the deck.

After sounding the ship, Hector dashed my hope that she might be seaworthy. "She's broken her back," he announced. Seeing my look of alarm, he added, "Means her keel be broken on the rocks."

A ship with no keel would capsize if we tried to sail her, so we set to work unloading provisions, tools, spare sails, and medicines. We threw everything down to the sand, and lowered the heavier goods with ropes. Before long we had a very large heap of everything from cooking pots to canvas and rigging to raisins.

When we entered the main cabin, I blessed Maroto for making us leave our weapons there. We retrieved our arms, and also removed bedlinens, mattress and hammock. I rummaged through the spare clothes and found enough to assemble the boy's clothes in which I was most comfortable, although my feet were still bare.

After several hours' work, we climbed down the ladder and removed all we had taken, dragging it away from the water. The tide was beginning to come in, and we needed to secure our plunder before it was ruined or swept out to sea.

...

Using the ship's spare sails, rigging and some poles, we built a makeshift tent sheltered by trees and underbrush. Hector took the tallest pole to the water's edge, where he hoisted the Berwick's colours as a signal to any passing vessel.

"It be too late today," he said, "but tomorrow we'll be movin'. We'll set up camp on one o' them hills and keep watch fer ships."

Then he waved me towards the tent, which I eyed dubiously. It looked as though the interior would be cramped and sweltering hot. "We could just sleep under the stars," I said. "It's a warm and lovely night."

He looked up at the clear sunset skies. "Nay. Sleep under the stars tonight, and there'll be rain in yer face before dawn."

It didn't seem so to me, but I forbore to argue with him.

At least we would have our supper in the open air. I made up a fire and prepared what I could from the Berwick's stores. Cheese, apples, potato pie-it was humble fare, but we could wash it down with brandy, and that was some consolation.

We spread a blanket over the sand and ate our meal in the gentle evening breeze. As we ate, Hector continued to opine on my plans as though our rescue from the island was a certainty.

"Ye'll stay with me 'til yer confinement be nigh," he announced through a mouth full of apple. "I might have somethin' to say about the smugglin', but I've no objection to Rufus and his daughter helpin' ye with the birth. What did ye want t' call him, by the by?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, then decided that smuggling might be the easier topic to take up. "What did you want to say about smuggling? It's not as though I know nothing. In Cornwall-"

"Aye, Cornwall," he interrupted. "Ye told me of yer venture with Sparrow when ye were scarce more'n a little stripling." He put down his plate. "But ye can't be thinkin' only about yerself now. Smugglin' will draw trouble, just so's ye know."

He fixed me with a penetrating stare as he explained his meaning. "All smugglers carry a deal o' gold with 'em to buy the goods, an' a deal more when they make a good market on their cargo. Brigands find out who ye are and look t' rob ye."

I supposed, since he was a brigand himself, I should heed his advice. "Noted. I'll be careful, my heart."

"There be more." He pointed a finger at me. "If ye be taken up on charges, ye'll hang."

"I see." I mulled this over for a moment. "And what risks do you reckon go with piracy?"

"That ain't the point!" He tightened his mouth and scowled at me. "I know yer reckless nature! I know what Rufus calls ye-'Wild Nina'! I know-"

"You have no faith in me!" I objected hotly. "You didn't even trust me with the work of a King's Messenger! You went with me to the Pantano because you thought me incompetent-and weak!"

He stared, wide-eyed. "Who ever said that? 'Twas yer welfare that concerned me! Ye said there was a man who tried to kill Maroto in the chapel, and a rider pursuin' ye out of London, and another one watchin' Mrs Turner's house. Who might they be? What be their quarry?"

He had me there, but I rejected the notion that he only cared for my safety. I looked away.

"By the powers, yer stubborn as a mule," he grumbled. "Not unlike meself."

Setting our empty plates aside, he reached for me. "Did ye think us marryin' would be an easy berth? Because I knew better. I knew 'twould be hard." His eyes searched mine as he traced my jaw with his fingertips. "Don't be unkind, sweetheart."

Our lips met. Once, twice...

Stretching out his legs, he leant back slightly against the trunk of a palm tree. He held my hand to steady me as I stepped across him and slowly knelt, straddling his lap. I had been about to say "I love you," but warmed by the look in his sweet blue eyes, I gave a tremulous sigh instead, and my intended words resolved themselves into gentle kisses, bestowed upon the centre of his lower lip, the right half of his upper lip, the left half of his upper lip, and the corners of his mouth, and his upturned chin. Gradually our arms tightened round each other, and we gave vent to our rising passions, too miserly to spare even an instant between the deep kisses we shared.

My breathing grew heavier and I began to unfasten the buttons on his vest. Once his coat and waistcoat were cast aside, the rest of our clothes followed, and there was nothing between our bodies and the night sky. "Always wanted t' do this with ye," he murmured into my hair, as we touched each other languidly, openly. "Better'n the finest bedchamber, aint it?"

But I was in no humour for talk. I needed him, needed his caresses, the feel of his skin against mine, and the roughness of his passionate thrusts. I gave his neck a playful nibble and he seized my wrists, pinning me down. "Me little minx," he hissed in my ear. I surrendered to him joyfully and he groaned as he took what he wanted.

Afterwards we rested, drowsing side by side under a canopy of bright stars as the breeze cooled our skin. I gazed at the constellations and the Milky Way, enjoying but not really seeing the multitude of celestial attractions, until I noticed three stars set in a straight line. Orion's belt.

"Look." I nestled against Hector's shoulder, pointing. "I know that one. It's Orion."

He grunted agreement. "Orion the Hunter. But the Carib don't call him the Hunter. To them he's the One-Legged Man."

"I suppose because Rigel is so bright," I replied idly. "You don't really notice his other leg." My dreams of Orion as an ill omen seemed far away, and I was disinclined to mention them. Having finally made sure of Hector's respect, I didn't wish to ruin it with superstitious folderol. Still, I made note of the Carib name. Perhaps I ought to beware of a one-legged man who was hunting something.

As the hour grew very late, we collected our clothes and retired to sleep in the tent. But before I could get comfortable, Hector pulled me close. He seemed to be steeling his resolve for something.

After a moment, he made me a startling promise. "I mean t' tell ye where I keep me money," he said through gritted teeth.

"Are-are you sure?" It was unthinkable; I must have misheard. My own family had kept me mostly ignorant of their financial arrangements.

"I might need ye t' bring it t' me. Or use it on me behalf, if I be captured. Or to bury me. Ye never know." He sighed. "Or ye might need it t' care for me son."

I nodded. There was a lump of emotion in my throat that prevented me from speaking. He trusted me. We were a family. In the morning, we would find a way to save ourselves from this island-perhaps embarking in one of the Berwick's boats. As long as we were alive and had provisions, as long as we had each other, I could believe that the future lay before us.

As we slept, the weather Hector had warned of was building in. A fresh breeze rose and the sea swell increased. Before dawn, I was awakened by the sound of rain on the canvas over our heads, but the restful pattering and soothing shush of the wind through the palm fronds soon put me back to sleep.

In the morning, my love and I went back to the cove to get more supplies from the Berwick. But when we arrived, my spirits sank. Overnight, the wind and the movement of the seas had repeatedly beaten her against the rocks until she broke apart. Little remained but kindling.

Next: Chapter 26 – A Compass That Doesn't Point North – Barbossa and Nina move to the island's highest point.