Rosie had hardly registered the order in her head before the first cannonball hit; the splintering of wood and the jolt it sent ricocheting through the whole ship had her and Mary awake at precisely the same time and suddenly scrabbling for breeches and boots and knives. No tender wake-up kisses this morning; they were scurrying up ladders while they dressed with barely time for a look.

 On deck the noise just grew—sounds of Anne shouting orders, gun blasts from their own ship too now, and screams from those below deck that had failed to move in time. Rosie winced as she pulled the shirt over her shoulders, there was no time to see to the wounded just yet. They were sitting ducks in what they had thought was safe harbour, and now stomach-churning lurches tossed the ship as it took blasts of cannon fire from a navy frigate and a schooner, the ship straining against the anchor and taking on water as the holes in the wooden walls dipped below sea level

 “Weigh anchor and hoist the sails!!” Anne’s voice came clear as a bell over the din, Mary already at her side, and their focus on the smaller boats headed their way full of redcoats with hardened faces. Anne was wide-eyed and wild, a Medusa surrounded by windswept hair and a face that was all rage, she practically spat the words out of her mouth, “They knew we were here and came around the island; the lookout didn’t stand a chance!”

 Almost automatic after months at sea, Rosie’s strong hands turned the capstan to winch the line of steel links back in and draw the anchor up. If they freed themselves they had a small chance of outrunning their would-be captors—right, captors that would take them as far as the gallows where the wind and the gulls would do the rest. There would be no reprise for any of them this time. Hands joined hers to pull the anchor up and the ship lifted a little in relief; they were free or at least no longer a tied pig waiting to be slaughtered.

 The first clash of steel behind her sliced through Rosie’s skin as if she herself was the target of it, her teeth grinding until she clamped them together. She could hardly bear to look, she just knew Mary was there next to Anne, meeting blades with that of her own as the heads of men begun to appear over the deck, and Rosie turned with resolve to join them. It was a fearsome sight indeed, and for the first stiff-collared men over the edge there was no quarter; however many were coming, these were here now, these were here now and Rosie felt her blade hit home.

 ***

 “Get their attention, Mister Gibbs,” Jack said quietly. The “Aye, Cap’n” was barely uttered before the sound of two cannons boomed in Kate’s ears, her eyes squinting to make sense of the chaos in the distance. Two smaller ships were clearly in the midst of battle and looking a bit tilted, Kate thought…

 “Listing,” Jack said out loud, as if he’d read her mind and was correcting, “and a bloody frigate blocking the cove to boot. Two against one, now that’s not very nice. I’ll take the helm now, William.”

 For the second time since the lookout had yelled “Smoke!” Jack was shouting orders and Kate was pulling on the rigging ropes, stealth no longer an issue as every sail the Pearl had was now full out, the ship shuddering into the turn and then seeming to spring like a crouching tiger, gathering speed as it flew at its prey. Kate was breathless and feeling not a little sick as the big ship, the frigate she reminded herself, seemed to grow bigger and bigger before her very eyes. She’d been involved in quite a few boardings, quite a few less battles, but never what appeared to be a full-on assault on a huge ship of his Majesty’s Royal Navy.

 ***

 Rats coming over the side of her ship. Redcoated rats on HER ship over her dead body, but better over theirs, though really someone should clean up this mess, they were in the way. The smoke burned Anne’s nose and she tasted blood in her mouth. The cowardly, miserable bastards attacked when she was moored because they were too afraid to take her on at sea. Cowardly bastards the lot of them!

 A new shout of “Sail!” made her risk a glimpse back and she almost lost an ear for it—her body swinging her blade up just in time. With the fury at her own distraction blazing inside her, she pushed the man back and over the side as if he were half his size.

 “Sparrow! He wouldn’t,” her eyes narrowed at the black sails flying toward her. She would slice him to ribbons after she finished this lot off. After all…no, no she was sure he wouldn’t. Mostly. But what the hell was he doing here?

 ***

 Aboard the frigate the Valiant, Captain Standish held the glass to his eye, his attention drawn away from the battle in the cove to the ship fast approaching out of the sun, “The Black Pearl!”

 “It appears so, captain, though what in the name of King George Sparrow is doing here, I cannot fathom. One less pirate ship to be competition for him once we have Bonny and Read swinging, wouldn’t you say, sir?” the mean laugh drew little mirth from Standish.

 “No honour nor comradeship amoungst thieves, is that what you mean, Peawick?”

 “That’s about the measure of it, sir.”

 “I think you will find that Sparrow has spent his entire career as a pirate doing exactly the opposite of that which is most expected.” He turned his glass back to the cove, to where the Fearless was at loggerheads with the buccaneers, and his cheeks reddened further by the minute. Captain Standish wiped a silk handkerchief over the thin layer of sweat on his brow. There was a lot riding on this little expedition of his—dismissed by his superiors as a wild-goose chase at first, he had eventually talked them round to letting him take command of a small fleet, well his own frigate and a schooner that could travel fast through these waters, and set chase after a ship of women pirates. Clearly his informant had been right about where they would find the Chamada do Siren moored, but to return without some bounty, without the prize, was unthinkable, and he could contain his rage no longer.

 “Those are women, goddamn you!! This should have been over by now!” The shallow waters of the cove would allow the frigate no closer, and he watched helplessly as the steady flow of redcoats streaming up ropes onto the ship held by Anne Bonny was turned back. The soldiers’ zeal to capture and force submission of the pirates floundered in the face of women with ferocious determination to do anything but.

 “Captain, what are your orders? Do we turn and face the Black Pearl? The Fearless is listing badly; we may have to pick up survivors.”

 “SURVIVORS!!!” Captain Standish was unable to contain his rage, knocking maps from the desk in front of him in one swipe. “We should be clapping Bonny, Read, and the rest of those harlots in chains right now! Not taking on survivors!”

 ***

 “Slow us down, William! Ramming a frigate is a strategy we will keep in our armoury for another day!” Jack’s clear voice carried over the wind, and Will issued quieter but nonetheless direct orders to the pirates scurrying on deck. He knew exactly what to do, it was his job to know exactly what to do.

 “Kate! Untie the rope!” the harsh insistence of Jack’s voice woke her from her thoughts and the queasy rumble in her belly, and Kate’s panic-stricken eyes looked up to find his. She hadn’t been concentrating, thinking instead about the pirate on the bridge and the catapulting speed with which she had moved from warm limbs and hips to the middle of a battle, her new position as sail master’s mate a different role entirely.

 Will was next to her in an instant, his muscles taking the force of the wind in the sail while she fumbled with the knot. A look upwards at him from where she was kneeling would have made all but those without a pulse sway, and were she not overwhelmed by all that was happening she would have smiled at him. He was truly beautiful—dark, tanned, and salt and sea—a good man and, if she was ever to need one, a friend who would put himself in front of a sword for her, Jack would expect nothing less.

 “Are you alright, Kate?” his rough fingers controlling the rope as the sail came down.

 “Apart from scared witless and feeling like my stomach is in a mangle? Yes I am fine.” Another shuddering boom thundered in her ears as a second cannon blasted in the direction of the frigate, and Kate shook her head. “Those women, they are outnumbered and outgunned, and we were too late to warn them.”

 Will nodded, serious eyes squinting into the distance. “I think Jack has a mind to even up this battle some, and Captain Standish won’t risk sending reinforcements over to the Fearless while we are here.”

 Kate frowned, “So we are not going to get into the fight ourselves?”

 Will screwed up his face a bit and looked back at the sea, “Not unless we have to…From what I hear those aren’t the sort of pirates a man just sails in and rescues, not renowned for her humble gratitude is Anne Bonny. And between you and me, WE are outnumbered and outgunned.” The alarm on her face had him put his hand on her shoulder with a wink, “Ah Kate, name one time that Jack didn’t have a plan...Jack always has a plan.”

 ***

 Soot-blackened hands smeared the sweat over her face as Rosie and the few women who hadn’t retreated to cough the smoke from their lungs dampened down the last of the flames below deck. The cannons were all but done now, though they had done their work alright, the splintered wood of the Fearless testament to that. But with every roll of the tide they could feel the ship take on more salt water, her hull becoming heavier and dragged down like a woman near to term forced into confinement. Rosie turned to grab her sword again; drown or be run through, either would suit better than hanging.

 Her eyes rebelled against the sun as she climbed out from the dust and dark of the ship into daylight. Squinting into the sun, she searched for Mary, her eyes skimming over red blood and red coats until she saw her, delivering still-powerful blows against the man in front of her who would take her liberty. Run, she just had to run through, and Rosie put her head down, shaky legs or no. He was no match for the two of them, a splash as he hit the water below, and Mary ventured a “There you are, my beauty” smile. Rosie, having decided they were in no immediate danger, reached to run over the trace of blood on Mary’s forearm, a wince of pain covered by, “It’s nothing, love, you should see him.”

 Rosie pulled a face, all she wanted really was to be back even 2 hours ago. And as if the bloodied face of her lover wasn’t enough “We are done for, Mary, the ship is sinking.”

They were marching together now, long steps across the deck to where other weary arms just held back the flow of men against the ship. “I know. I can feel it. What we don’t know is what Jack Sparrow is up to- he fired on Standish, and now they are just circling there like two tomcats on a roof.”
Rosie frowned into the blue water to catch sight of the two ships just seconds before her blade crashed again.

 ***

 The Pearl moved slowly but steadily now, the tiger having dropped into a determined crawling crouch but having roared loudly enough that the fat water buffalo of a frigate knew it was coming. The moment of decision would come soon, and a hush fell over the ship as the men waited. Kate could not wait and went to Jack at the wheel, sure that for now at least, she would not be in the way.

 “So what is your plan?” she asked a little too fast. More than anything she wanted to wrap her arms around him, feel the reassurance of hard determination under her hands, but she knew it was not the moment for that, and she forced herself to take a half step back from him. “What do you think they’ll do?” she asked even more quietly.

 Jack could feel the tension in her body from 3 feet away, feel her pressing her feet against the deck and standing up straighter like he’d taught her—use your body to change your feelings. She was fighting it, and he’d not sabotage the effort. Still he held her with his eyes, and he could see her shoulders drop just a little. “My plan is that those troublesome fellows will count both their blessings and their losses, and be good chaps and sail off home. My plan is that our reputation proceeds us, and a bird in the hand and all that…The interesting question now is what is their plan, and whether or not those things may coincide.”

 Kate looked at him as if she were expecting rather more—more details, more odds in their favour—and what he added stung a bit. “It’s not a desk job, luv. Freedom here involves some risks, eh?” There, let her be mad at him for a bit, it would distract her from being afraid. A sudden sharp pain in his ankle made him wonder why he’d ever bought her such well-made boots.

 ***

 Captain Standish swung the end of his eyeglass to the black sails that now appeared to be stalking his every move. “Dammit!! This is non of your concern, Sparrow!”

 “If I may venture a suggestion, captain,” Peawick stood back a little way, lest he be given the same treatment as the maps which now were strewn over the deck, ready to duck at any moment, nevertheless he took a breath to speak. “Might it not be prudent to withdraw—of course temporarily—to return on the tide with more men to finish off those hellcats, that is should Sparrow not have done our job for us?”

 He winced under the full force of Captain Standish’s angry glare and shut his eyes as seconds passed to consider his fortunes. It had been a good life in the navy so far. By virtue of his birth and his father’s connections, he had been guaranteed an easy rise to the considerably more comfortable rank of lieutenant, thus avoiding the necessity of actually having to come face-to-face, or more specifically blade-to-blade, with the pirates they chased; though right at this minute, he feared that his career was to be considerably curtailed. But that being the case, Peawick pulled himself up and dared to look back in the wild eyes in front of him. He may as well escape with his life at the very least. He had no desire to become part of the legion of ships that formed part of the Pearl’s reputation.

 “It would seem to me, sir, that Bonny’s ship is past repair. In short, they are sinking, and as such, they will still be here on our return, minus their bounty, which will be lost either to the sea or to Sparrow. The island here, if I may conjecture, offers little in the way of cover for our soon-to-be prisoners, once we return with more marines, that is.” There that was it, his mother would be sorely disappointed, no doubt his father would disown him, but it was done.

 If it had been a less sunny day he might have suspected a storm, but the thunder he could hear rising was in no way due to dark clouds, at least maybe only those gathering in Captain Standish’s thoughts. “MORE men, like those lily-livered excuses I can see right now! Take the glass, Peawick, and look at them! Floundering in the face of Bonny and her ship full of trollops!”

 Reluctantly Peawick held his hand out and made a play of taking in the scene, nodding sagely and with all the disappointment he could muster in his thin lips, “Regrettable, sir.” He knew that was the wrong word even as it slipped out of his mouth, and he hastily added, “But the fact remains, Captain, that we must do something…Sparrow has given us warning.”

 The eyeglass hit the deck with a crash, shards flying in all directions, and Standish leant back against the table. “Signal the Fearless to retreat, Peawick...NOW! The admiral will have my guts for garters if I return with two ships in need of repair and no Bonny. Get us out of here! I will be in my cabin,” and with something of a petulant slam, Standish retreated himself to the dark of his rooms where he could console himself with the knowledge that at least the Chamada do Siren had been put out of commission.

 ***

 “Now you see, it is really not that difficult to predict the actions of a man who is only in it for himself,” a brimming Jack Sparrow grin as a kind of muted cry went up from the crew at the sight of the Valiant changing direction. Kate was too happy and relieved now to be mad any longer.

 “That reminds me, Jack…you never did answer my question last night about what we are doing here.”

 “Ah well, a tale for another time, luv. Time to make the introductions and face a tidal wave, I expect. William, bring us alongside if you would be so kind. Gibbs! See what you can scrape up for repairs.”

 “LeClerc and Sawyer are already at it, captain.”

 “Excellent. Well then, I suppose there is no postponing it. Let us go ‘Hallo the house’ as it were, and hope they don’t set the dogs on us.”

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 Chapter Three