At Worlds' End: Part 9/15
Chapter IX: The Captain's Daughter
The Black Pearl slowly tugged the Blind Betsy into a lush cove, the shoreline of which was littered with low barges with small wooden shanties built on top. Woman sat round the edges of these floating shacks, jabbering to one another in the local tongue and stirring large steaming pots. Little dark-eyed children, wearing hardly a thing, peered shyly from dark doorways and their mothers' skirts. Chickens clucked and pecked round the women's feet, and a mangy-looking dog yapped at the ships as they floated past.
"This is your beloved Singapore?" asked Will, one eyebrow raised.
Jack grinned, hands on the wheel and eyes straight ahead as he steered the ship into port. "She may not the prettiest girl in the pub at first glance, but don't let her fool you, mate - what's under her skirts is priceless. She's a narrow strait along an important trade route rife with hiding places. Pirate paradise."
They dropped anchor and tied the Pearl up, securing the ropes on several strong trees rather than to the ramshackle dock. Will wondered how the Betsy would fare, sticking out in open water, but the locals seemed unconcerned about the two ships now blocking the entrance to their natural harbor. In fact, they seemed thrilled to have Jack Sparrow amongst them again. There was no harbormaster waiting to collect a fee, but a gang of locals, mostly children, paddled up to the dock in small skiffs. They rushed out to greet Jack, who patted one young boy on the shoulder fondly, and accepted a spiky fruit from a woman holding a naked babe.
Jack strolled down the dock as though he were a returning king, surrounded by his loyal subjects. The others followed close behind. A tiny girl, no older than three, stared up at Will and Elizabeth with large brown eyes. She took her hands out of her mouth long enough to throw them up toward Elizabeth. Elizabeth glanced toward Will, whose attention had just been diverted by a boy of about twelve taking his hand. A small monkey hopped off the boy's shoulder and ran up Will's arm, promptly examining his hair. With a laugh, Elizabeth bent to pick the child up, balancing the little girl on her hip. They had found Jack. They were in Singapore. They had many trials yet to face, but at that very moment, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel everything would be all right.
Jack turned, trotting backwards, and called to the others. "We'll spend the night here, pick up men enough to crew both ships, and gather plenty of supplies. I'll ask around to see if anyone has word about the unholy alliance Beckett has formed."
Will stared beyond the row of huts to the dense green jungle, as if to question where Jack planned on finding men, food, or information.
"Don't worry about it boy," Jack said, gesturing grandly. "I know people."
The monkey on Will's shoulder screeched, and hopped across to Tia Dalma's arm, where she paused for a moment, peering shyly at monkey-Jack, who was perched atop Barbossa’s hat. Tia Dalma let out a tinkling laugh as she lifted her arm up to introduce the two.
"Yeh wouldn't dare," growled Barbossa.
"Food. Drink. Come," said Jack, waving his arms toward one of the barges. They piled into two small skiffs, and were ferried across by young, brown, bare-chested boys.
They pulled the curtain aside, and ducked down in the tiny space. The air was steamy from the large pot that sat in the middle of the shack. Jack immediately made himself at home, sitting and crossing his legs at the far end. Two native women passed round coconuts filled with a potent smelling, milky-white liquid and banana leaves piled with rice, yams, and shredded bits of chicken. Elizabeth looked down to see if they were to use any sort of crude utensil. Barbossa spotted this, and grinned.
"Still standing on ceremony, are yeh?" he said, his hand already halfway to his mouth.
The woman across from Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, and mimed reaching her fingers into the food on her leaf, as though to show her how it was done.
Elizabeth dipped her fingers in, and hesitantly, brought the food to her mouth. As it hit her palate, she closed her eyes to savor the sensation. A fresh, hot-cooked meal had rarely tasted so good. Greedily, she dug in. It took a few moments before she realized the women sat watching them, hands in their laps.
"Why aren't they eating?" she asked Jack, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.
"They always wait till the men are finished." Elizabeth set down her leaf and looked toward the women, afraid she had offended them. "S'all right," said Jack, stuffing more rice into his mouth. "They think you're a man anyway, given your... trousers."
After dinner, they sat outside, round the edge of the barge. The jungle behind them rustled to life as the sun set. Elizabeth was reminded of Tia Dalma's muggy bayou. She wondered if the woman missed her small shack on the other side of the world. For the first time, Elizabeth realized she was slightly homesick for Port Royal, and the familiar waters and white sands of the Caribbean. She thought of her father, whom she hadn't seen in almost a year. Was he well? What word had he of her journeys?
A noise by the edge of the barge brought her back to Singapore. There was the splash of someone throwing a towline, and the low murmur of voices. Jack turned to the rest of the group as a wizened little man stepped aboard. "I'll leave you fine ladies and gents in the very capable hands of the village doctor while I go... negotiate." With that, he hopped down into the boat, joining three beautiful, giggling young women in various mixtures of European and local dress. Pintel and Ragetti stared slack-jawed, Barbossa leered, and Tia Dalma's mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. Will simply nodded, watching them push off with no change in expression. Elizabeth turned away and rolled her eyes in disgust. The man who had stepped out of the boat offered them a toothless grin as he lit a fire in a large, shallow metal bowl. He sat down beside them, and began what was clearly a long, complicated story. Every once in a while, he would throw something into the fire, or gesture at the sky. The women who had served their dinner came out of the hut and leaned against the shanty, arms crossed, listening. Little children appeared, as though out of thin air. The tiny girl Elizabeth had carried down the dock plopped down next to her, thumb in mouth, watching the man with round, dark eyes.
Though she could not understand what he was saying, the rhythms of the man's voice, and the warmth of the night, and the smoke of the fire made Elizabeth quite drowsy. She lay back, looking at the stars above. She wished Will was closer, so she could have found his hand in the darkness, or rested her head upon his shoulder. But he sat clear across from her, the dancing flames illuminating the slight frown on his face. Elizabeth knew that look. He was brooding. On this night of all nights, when it felt so easy to let everything go. If only she could be as bold as those girls in the boat - she could forgo all propriety, and demand he come to her, in front of all these people...
Elizabeth slowly slipped off into the land of Nod. She was shaken awake eventually - she could not tell how much time had passed, but the fire had gone out, and the man gone. Gentle hands guided her into a skiff, which floated back to the Pearl. They led her to the only true bed on board, the cozy berth built into the wall of the captain's quarter, and left her there. As the door swung shut gently, she turned to see the shape of a man silhouetted by moonlight. With a contented smile, Elizabeth Swann curled up between the sheets, and fell fast asleep.
* * * * *
Will awoke, still propped in sitting position in front of the Pearl's cabin door. He rubbed his aching neck and squinted his eyes at the dark shape in front of him that blocked the morning sun. Jack grinned down at Will.
“Protecting fair maiden's honor?”
Will chose to ignore this comment. "And how were your negotiations?"
"Marvelous. I was promised eleven strong lads to help us man our ships. I figure, Barbossa gets the pick of them, and the rest fill out our crew. Then we can have a race, see who gets to relieve Beckett of the heart - a race the Pearl will certainly win, between the superior craft and the superior Captain. But we'd better get started. We've already got company," he said, jerking his head.
Still rubbing his neck, Will stood to see what Jack was referring to. Another ship had laid berth sometime in the wee hours of the morning. The tiny harbor was becoming quite crowded, between their two ships and the new arrival. Will instantly recognized the sleek vessel, and soon caught sight of the familiar face that belonged with it.
"Ahoy Blind Betsy!" From the deck of the Sea Witch, Robert Gadling waved. He walked to the rail, calling across. "We gave up on you after three days. Figured you were never coming out. So - how did it go? Was the mad pirate telling the truth? Come down - I want to hear the whole bloody story!"
Upon meeting him on shore, Will nodded curtly. "Robert Gadling, Jack Sparrow." Gadling reached out to shake Jack's hand, but Jack curled his inward, frowning as he studied the other man's face.
"Have we met before?"
Gadling hesitated before answering. "I don't believe so."
"No... couldn't have been. Perhaps your father. Name of Hob Gadling?"
"You're right - my father was called Hob," said Captain Gadling, clearly surprised. "How'd you know him?"
"He was in the employ of one Cutler Beckett. Helped give my ship a bit of a nasty send off."
"Ah... I apologize for any wrong my father might have done you."
"Not your problem." They shook hands. "Took after him in your line of work, did you?"
"Merchant Captain? I did."
"With the East India Trading Company?" Jack grimaced.
"I was. I operate more as a private individual these days." Gadling seemed eager to change the subject. "So when are you setting off?"
"Soon as we've loaded supplies and managed to get all new hands on board."
"Mind if I join your little fleet? Three ships with English captains fare far better in these waters than one."
"The Chinese are still after you, then?" asked Will.
"Chinese?" Jack sounded curious.
"Seems I got my hands on a little artifact they'd rather not see leaving these waters. Silly little pendant, but I've taken a liking to it. And it's a matter of principal, really, if you know what I mean."
Jack looked Gadling up and down with sharp eyes. "How can I be sure you won't turn and join ranks with the East India Company should we happen upon them?"
Gadling grinned. "Ah, well... they tried to give me a bit of a nasty send off as well, not so long ago."
* * * * *
All three ships were ready to go, baskets and sacks full of fruits, vegetables, and rice stored neatly in the hold, and a dozen young men having shown up for duty between the Betsy and the Pearl. Elizabeth stood by the railing of the Black Pearl, looking around the harbor fondly. She would miss Singapore.
She caught sight of Will and Jack, walking with a man with thinning reddish-brown hair. Her eyes lit up as she recognized the captain of the Sea Witch. As the three men began to part ways, she arrived beside them, breathless.
"Hello, Mr. Gadling," she said, quite pleased to see him again.
Gadling took her hand, and bowed with a grin. "Hello Miss Swann."
Will looking annoyed, started to walk away. Elizabeth glanced toward him, ready to call out.
Captain Gadling noticed, and released her hand. "Go on. We'll have time to chat later. The Sea Witch'll be joining you on your journey through the South China Sea."
Elizabeth gave him a grateful nod, and hopped off after Will.
"So Captain Gadling is to be joining us?"
"Aye," said Will, sounding none too pleased.
"Why do you think ill of him?" asked Elizabeth.
"He's a hypocrite," Will replied. "And we've got enough problems of our own with only the two ships - we don't need a fleet of Manchurian pirates as well, simply because the man refuses to return the trinket he stole from them." He stared off to the open waters beyond the harbor, brows knitted together.
Elizabeth spoke quietly. "Will, we shall help your father."
He nodded, distractedly. Then -
"I think it best if you remain on the Pearl, with Jack. I shall go with Barbossa. Someone needs to keep watch on the Betsy - the man cannot be trusted."
Elizabeth frowned, stepping away from him. Somewhere, something had gone horribly wrong. Jack Sparrow was back from the dead, and they were well on their way to freeing Will's father, but Will continued to act as distant toward her as he had these past few months.
"But Will... I want to go with you."
Will shook his head and began to walk toward the ships. "Sailing aboard the Betsy could prove dangerous. Besides, Jack will take care of you."
Elizabeth stalked after him. "I don't want Jack to take care of me - I can take care of myself, as you well know, Will Turner!"
Will turned sharply to face her. Bitter, jealous thoughts that had remained unspoken for months finally overcame his usual calm reason, spilling out without regard to consequence. "Then perhaps dear Jack is the one who needs looking after. As you did just before the Pearl sank."
His words stung like a lash. Elizabeth stared at him, her mouth forming explanations that would not come. He had seen. He knew. Or did he? How had Jack described it? Had he expressed it to Will as the kiss of Judas, a sad farewell to a noble friend, or... a passionate expression of love?
Will stepped closer to her, and his voice regained its gentle timbre. "I love you Elizabeth; enough to let you go if need be."
Elizabeth cursed herself for being unable to string two meaningful words together. "Bu... no... wha...?"
Will smiled, painfully. "Good day, Miss Swann," he said, then turned and continued down the dock.
"Will!"
But he had walked up the gangplank to the Blind Betsy, and signaled for it to be hoisted as the ships prepared to leave harbor. Elizabeth was left standing on the beach; mouth pursed and tears stinging her eyes as they raised anchor and canvas. From his place at the ropes, Tia Dalma saw her standing below, and turned and said something to Will, but Will simply shook his head and walked away from the railing.
"Will!" she cried again, choking desperately, not caring who heard or saw. There was only one person in the world that mattered to her, and his ship was leaving harbor without her.
* * * * *
The clink of metal against metal woke Norrington. The boy next door was carefully picking at the lock of his cell with the tip of his knife, elbows at odd angles as he twisted it just so.
"You'll never manage," yawned Norrington. He'd barely uttered the words when the lock clicked, and the cell door swung open. He sat up in amazement.
"Are you in or not?" the boy hissed triumphantly. "If Mister Mercer's standing watch, I'll need help, and you need to take back your heart."
Norrington leapt to his feet as the boy turned his attention to the lock. After a fair amount of careful jiggling and twisting and a frustrated kick at the cell door, the lock clicked open, and Norrington stepped out of the cell.
"Right," he whispered. "First I need a weapon."
They carefully pried a gun out of a sleeping sailor's slack grip, and snuck through the shadows toward Beckett's cabin. It was quiet on deck. Too quiet, Norrington thought. There was no sign of Mercer prowling round, which also proved disturbing. Norrington clutched the gun as they hid under the stairs near the captain's quarters; the only sound the nervous breathing of his companion. He realized he didn't even know the boy's name. He extended his hand.
"Good luck... I'm sorry. I never asked your name."
"Sam. Samuel Hammond, Sir."
"Good luck, Sam."
"And to you, Admiral."
"Not any more. James Norrington."
With a quick handshake, they stood and spun toward the door. Sam pushed it in carefully as Norrington stood ready with the gun. They entered the room, the door swinging shut softly behind them. Norrington glanced toward the corners, looking for both the menacing figure of Mercer, and any place Beckett could possibly have stowed the heart. Sam crept across the room, his knife held high. It sparkled, catching pale moonlight reflected off the water below, as he reached the bed where Beckett's sleeping shape lay. A ray of light hit a long, wooden case lying on a shelf. Norrington recognized it and reached for it. Prying it open, he took his sword in his hand. Closing the lid, he noticed a familiar small trunk stashed behind it, just the right size for -
Sam cried out. Beckett was clutching both the boy's hands in his own, the knife mere inches from its target. Norrington turned to assist him, but before he could take two steps, he felt a cold blade at his own neck.
"Evenin' Admiral," purred Mercer, far to close for comfort. "I suggest you drop the sword."
Norrington did so, with a loud clank.
"And the gun."
Mercer took the relinquished weapons and kicked them safely into a corner. Sam yelped as Beckett slid out of bed, fully dressed, and twisted the boy's wrist. Beckett caught the knife in his free hand as Sam dropped it. He pulled Sam to him and inhaled sharply.
"What a pleasant surprise. I knew you'd come back to me some day."
"Let me go!" cried Sam, with a rather girlish squeal. Beckett tossed the knife aside and reached up to remove the struggling figure's stocking cap, revealing a long shock of matted ginger hair. The Governor bared his teeth in a smile.
"Good evening, Ann. It's been far too long. Admiral Norrington, I don't believe you've been properly introduced to my former fiancée."