Chapter Eleven

Captain Standish could hear the hubbub in the town, the sort of noise that too many men and women make, well those sorts of men and women anyhow, and if he was honest, he was glad to be on his ship. The rocket streaking through the sky clearly meant some part of the plan had faltered, but Lawes could deal with the rabble. Standish nodded to himself. He had the important task—capturing those pirates—it was only a matter of time and determination. He was beginning to grow dizzy from staring down his eyeglass when a speck of something appeared on the skyline, a dark shape at first that wavered and was moving too fast, coming closer by the second. He felt a rush like Christmas morning when he would come down to a room festooned with lavishly wrapped gifts, and he could hardly contain himself, “They are here, Peawick, set the sails!”

“But, Captain, we are supposed to wait until they come nearer into port! We have set the ambush, and we are supposed to wait for the Commodore!”

“WHO exactly is the captain here?! Did I give you an order or didn’t I?? If you think that I will stand by and let that upstart take the glory, you are sadly mistaken, Peawick! Now set the sails!”

From the battlements above the town Jack spotted it first, his ringed finger pointing out to sea and taking the gaze of his companion with it. “Turner! Managed not to get the sails in a twist then! High time to load the cannons, create a little bit of what one might call a diversion, wouldn’t you say?” He was enjoying this, though the sight of his ship out there while his feet were firmly on land did give him pause. Soon…He would have her back soon, both hers as it happened, the Pearl and Kate, but in the meantime he meant to ensure that the unfavourable odds would be evened out some. He watched closely as the Valiant began to move from across the bay and a fever of activity built on board the smaller vessel, the Fearless, below as their confusion spread. Jack smiled; it was always preferable when your enemy did their best to unpick their own attack and, well, not to put too fine a point on it, when they were in range. Desperate shouts could be heard and the Commodore with a frown and a glass to his eye searched the decks of the Valiant for some indication as to why they were moving before he finally gave the order to follow.

“Now just where do you think you are going, Commodore?” A sizzle caught the wick and a rumble preceded the expulsion of a cannon into the blue. “Hold onto your hat, mate. After this little display we might find ourselves with some company up here.” But both of them watched all the same as, one after the other, their two cannons blasted the side of the Fearless, the fierce rocking helping to shake loose a score or so of unprepared sailors into the still water of the harbour and she listed with the water that came flooding over her lower decks. “Reload!” Jack’s shout went unheard in a clash of metal. He flicked round to see what the noise was, “Bloody Redcoats!” Evidently the rocket and the cannon had been a little too much to ignore, even in a town besieged by its own citizens. Jack winced just a little as the Fearless made it out to open water, the time he had to think on it, however, taken up by the arrival of 2 more men.

“What is it that you are wanting, sonny? Surely the navy isn’t paying you enough to risk coming up here with just the four of you? Now whatever were you thinking of?” Jack’s eyes fixed exactly on those of the brashest and biggest while he circled, his pirate companion baring sword, teeth, and the most fearsome of smiles. A sudden move from Jack sent the soldier teetering back on his heels with a crash that almost buckled metal. “Fancy your chances do you, lad? Reckon that if you get away with your life they will give you some of them gold stripes on your arm…that’s if you still have one to pin them on.” Another lunge and the soldiers were starting to back off. A bone-aching smash from the other pirate sent one flying back onto the floor with his legs in a mad panic to keep moving back.

“Now how about this for a scenario, you run along and play nice down in the town…pretend you never even saw us…leaving us to do what we came for without the need to stain those lovely uniforms of yours. Should I have the misfortune later of bumping into the Commodore, I promise I won’t mention our little encounter, an understanding between us gentlemen, as it were. Now doesn’t that sound a more satisfactory end to the afternoon?” Jack’s sword was even lowered, had they taken a moment’s look to quell their fear, a masterful piece of unspoken language that settled the issue. “Don’t run, boys, take in the air on your way down!” Jack called as the soldiers disappeared over the ridge. His sight, however, was already trained back on the sea and, much to his surprise, a fourth ship had sailed into view. “Anne Bonny!”

The day wasn’t turning out quite as Anne had expected—a pleasant sail to Port Royal, an evening that started in the afternoon, new crew to swell the ranks, and Mary without a face that looked like she had asked the barman for a gin and taken a mouthful of water instead. “You barnacled bastard!! What in the name of Neptune have you pulled me into now??” She climbed up into the crows nest herself to get a better look and cursed at the Pearl even louder in the wind, “I knew you were a bloody fool! What the fuck are you doing leading two navy ships right across my path??”  She gave a shout that might just have woken the dead, “Mary! Load the cannons! Thanks to that bloody Sparrow we appear to be squaring up to a fucking frigate AGAIN! And not to add to our misery but they have us the wrong side to the sea. I will have his guts for me garters AFTER I finish off this fuckin’ navy ship!”

Women scurried all over the decks, preparing to fire as they were cornered further into shore.

“Anne, look again! Can you not see that Will Turner at the helm?”

“Sparrow isn’t even on his ship? Drinking and whoring in the bloody tavern whilst the rest of us do his dirty work, I will bet! Turn her about, Mary, or we will be caught on the fuckin’ rocks!”

Mary shouted orders to the insubstantial crew. Christ, they were going to be lucky to get out of here. The sudden lurch of the ship was both fortuitous and unfortunate both, easily out manoeuvring the Fearless now and turning back towards sea, they had, however, spun into the sights of the battlement cannon a little too late to stop the explosion and the ball’s force from smashing through new wood and freshly painted tar.

“Fucking Hell! Sparrow, you are going to pay for this!”

If only she had known…Up on the battlements Jack pulled a face, squinting his eyes before he dared to look. “Ooops!! I am thinking we might want to keep that one quiet, mate. I imagine I am in enough trouble as it is! Reload! We will see if we can’t give the Fearless a few more holes by way of an apology, and then we are off down to the dock where with any luck our ferry awaits complete with Kate. It is time to make a hasty exit, if I am not mistaken.”

Standish was beside himself, barking at anyone who had the misfortune to be in range to get them moving faster, and only just aware that the Fearless was now a long way behind, evidently having problems of her own. His heartbeat stopped when he looked through the spyglass to where Rosie worked the ropes on deck of the Pearl, his mouth fell open, and he felt a jump in his regulation navy-issue trousers that said revenge. “PEAWICK!! I have her! FIRE!!!”

Aboard the Black Pearl Will Turner took a quick look over his shoulder. They weren’t going to make it into harbour, better to draw the frigate away from Anne, and hope that Kate and Jack had done what they had set out to do. Then he winced. Ok, so it was the Valiant that was chasing them. “Rosie, you need to know something!” He gave a shout from across the deck where he stood with both hands on the wheel, “Standish! Portside!”

He could see Rosie pale even from this distance, but not as much as when the first cannon hit home, a sickening smack as timber splintered. “Jack is going to kill me!” Will whispered as he yanked the wheel round. The Pearl could outrun the frigate...damn! She could outrun the devil himself, and he was turning her round. “Full sail ahead,” his voice strong enough to be heard even caught in the wind. A puzzled look from Gibbs though had him shout again, “Full sail ahead, Mr Gibbs!”

 Rosie was next to him in an instant, a wild look in her eyes, “What are you doing? We can get away! Will, that man will kill me…or maybe worse.”

 His hands were hard on the wheel, “Do you want to run again, Rosie?” She didn’t answer for what seemed like a minute, every second bringing them closer, “This time you choose,” he told her.

 She swallowed hard. She could just about see Standish now, looking right at her through his spyglass. “Kiss me…right now!”

Will wasn’t normally the pirate to refuse a request, something ungentlemanly in a denial, but he frowned, “Rosie, I have to watch…” His protests were stopped by her hands in his hair and her mouth and her tongue and her hips against him in a furious kiss.

 “Thank you! Now get me close to him.”

Will shook his head smiling and still catching his breath, “Somehow I knew you would say that.”

Despite its relative size, the sight of the Black Pearl approaching at full speed was enough to terrify the living daylights out of even the most loyal sailors, unfortunately for Standish he had already burned his boats in that regard, and already there were murmurings, “She’ll ram us for sure!” “Damned, she is!”

Rising panic swept through the Valiant as they continued the head-on course. Aboard the Pearl, Gibbs closed his eyes and tried to remember that prayer his mother taught him once. On the Chamada Anne, with one eye on the Fearless and one eye on the Valiant, was open-mouthed,  “What the fuck is that boy up to?? He is as bloody insane as Sparrow!”

“Ramming a frigate...Leave that in the armoury for another time!” Will could hear Jack’s voice in his head and grinned, not today Jack. The Pearl was almost in Standish’s cabin when Will screamed, “TURN!” A spin of the wheel had the Pearl lurch into the wind that filled the sails of the frigate, it’s puff like that of Standish, suddenly deflating. “Stealing their wind, it’s called!” Will shouted rather proudly at Gibbs who had yet to open his eyes never mind appreciate a daring-on-the-point-of-foolish manoeuvre. But there was no time to gloat, they had to move fast.

Ropes and winches sailed through the air, and the cannons blasted. The sailors of the Valiant were caught a little by surprise at their sudden halt and by the surge of men and women landing their ship with knives, cutlasses, and eyes flashing. A roar from Standish on the helm had them draw their swords in defense, and then the clang of metal drowned out further screams and shouts. Rosie stayed close to Will at first, her knees shaking a little but her arms as strong as ever. She half smiled as a glance around her caught the sight of the women who the night before had been in the Faithful Bride now turned into banshees from the pits of hell wielding swords above their heads, their appearance enough to scare any man. But she wanted to be the one to scare one particular man, and she knew just where he was—at the helm. Of course, where else would he be? He wouldn’t be fighting, cowards and “gentlemen” like him never did. Time to change that.

It wasn’t easy. Her mind cleared and she stood with her feet on the wood. Concentrate Rosie. If you let your body do what it could without fear or “buts,” it could do most anything. She moved slowly through the lines of redcoats, smaller in stature than most, she slipped under swords and evaded blows until she stood at the foot of the stair, her chest heaving and sweat drenching her limbs. Don’t think, just walk. She took them two at a time, and at the last minute raised her head. A shiver went down her back at being this close, “En garde, Captain Standish,” she challenged with her sword in front of her face and her legs ready to move any way he chose to. She was barely aware of the din behind her. “Where is your sword?”

Standish stared at her, his face bright red. “You don’t mean me to cross swords with you? You are a whore and a thief! Peawick!!”

Rosie clenched her jaw, “As you wish, Captain,” and with a running slash she cut through his jacket, a seep of darker red formed and Standish looked down with disbelief.

“You cut me! PEAWICK!!”

“I will run you through! Surrender to me and save the lives of yourself and your men!”

From behind her she heard a familiar voice, “Rosie! Look out!” the same time as a burn went through her shoulder. She spun round to see a man at her feet, a sword in his back, and a pirate she loved advancing up the stair. Will’s hands wiped her skin, smearing her blood for a look, “It’s not deep.” His eyes, however, covered the bull of a man in front of them who was  scrabbling to release his ceremonial sword, for which he had little practice, and advancing with the taste of blood in his mouth. Will stepped forward, his blade free now, his hair blown in the wind, and the stains of sweat and blood on his face. “You could have me to deal with…but I will watch her make you surrender, Captain Standish. There are things you need to learn about the soul of women.”

The Captain’s retreat against the doors of the cabin fortuitously gave Peawick the excuse he needed not to emerge, and there Standish might have surrendered or not, but that the sea had something to say. On the Chamada, the Pearl, the Valiant, the Fearless, and the little fishing boat making its way out of the chaos of Port Royal, every pirate and every sailor worth his salt felt it—a rumble and a quiver in the water that shook their bones.

Rosie felt Will drag her hand back as a swell the like of which she had never felt hit the broad side of the ship. “Rosie! We have to get out of here!”

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