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The Sacking of Port Royal
by TortugaBlack

CHAPTER 16: Two Women

Elizabeth Swann leaned over the stern railing as the untied lines were thrown down, caught and coiled at the bottom of each boat. Free of the small craft, the pirate galley pulled away, her speed held in check by the firm hand at her helm. Safely out of her wake, the longboats started shoreward. With fear’s cold grip around her heart and a growing dread of utter helplessness, Elizabeth watched the tall figure seated in the bow of the second boat grow smaller and less defined with each stroke of the oars until the darkness took them.

The night air was warm, the fragrance of the islands touching it with the breath of spring and fresh growth; still she shivered. Remembering the spyglass and the duties given to her by Sparrow, she started forward, her hand on the railing to steady against the motion of the ship as she continued to search the dark waters for signs of the boats. Finding a place opposite the helm and out of the way of the gun crews, she pulled the glass from her pocket, expanded it to its full length and pointed it towards the Jackal. Her heart quickened. What looked to be a ship’s lantern had been set at the foot of the boarding ramp, another at the end of the dock. While neither offered enough light to make out the details she so anxiously sought, they still provided more light than she had dared hope.

Settling her attention on the brig, she swung the glass slowly from bow to stern. If she focused intently at a given spot aboard the slaver, she could make out the shadowy figures at the deck guns and, below them, the ominous black holes of the open gun ports. Trying to still the shaking of her hand, she forced herself to slowly advance the glass across the deck to the Jackal’s stern, then beyond, eagerly meticulously searching the dark waters faintly illuminated by the lantern light and the cold star shine. The sea remained unsettlingly empty of the boats she half expected to see – no, she corrected herself, afraid she would see, fearful that if she could see them, so could those aboard the brig.

Taking the glass momentarily from her eye, Elizabeth watched the Pearl draw parallel with the Jackal within sight of her crew, but well out of the reach of her long guns. From the helm orders were issued for silence and a minimum of movement; the whispered orders passed on from gun crew to gun crew.

Catching a shadowy movement amidships, Elizabeth turned her head in time to see the stark white of skull and crossed sabers against a field of black even darker than the night catch the wind and open on its way to the top of the main mast. With the display of her colors, the Black Pearl hove to and settled in the water, a ghost ship, the cursed ship of legend and the pirate galley of the legendary and ominous Captain Jack Sparrow.

Sensing the effect the Pearl’s sudden appearance would have on the Jackal and again fearful for the longboats, Elizabeth put the glass to her eye, keeping her movements slow, her body hunkered over the rail to minimize the possibility of being seen. Ana Maria’s orders against sudden or unnecessary movement became clear as Elizabeth centered her attention on the deck of the brig. The dark figures that before had been difficult to see, now rushed frantically about the deck, gesturing towards the Black Pearl, giving anyone watching a good guess as to their numbers – and their vulnerability. Tied to the dock, their sails limp, should the Pearl start towards them with hostile intent, they would be able to return fire, but would have no way of maneuvering out of her way.

With the glass still to her eye, Elizabeth smiled at the cunning of Jack Sparrow. She had read of his exploits and even as a child had thought them to be wildly exaggerated, but they had sent shivers of excitement up her spine along with a child’s innocent longing for adventure. How many times had she looked up from those pages and longed to be where now she stood?

She turned her face into the night breeze as she scanned the deck of the Pearl and thrilled at the feeling of tension and excitement in the salty air, reveled in the creaking of the great ship and watched in wide-eyed fascination the shadowy figures of pirates standing ready at the deck guns. Pirate stories, pirate adventures, the open sea, the freedom, the companionship, the powerful pull it had on her as a child was still there and, with a sinking heart, she knew the pull it would also have on Will Turner, the son of a pirate, whose very blood must cry for it. Will!

Forcing her attention away from the dark figures of the Jackal’s crew, Elizabeth swept the glass slowly aft until she found the stern then directed it down. There! She stilled the glass and centered it on something low in the water, the vague outline of a longboat in the shadows of the ship’s stern. Sensing someone coming up to stand quietly at her shoulder, Elizabeth continued to search for the second boat, unwilling to lower the glass for fear of missing it. The figure beside her stood quietly by.

“What see you?”

Elizabeth started at the recognized voice of the Pearl’s helmsman. Thinking Ana Maria was asking for a report, she again swept the Jackal’s deck. “The crew’s very agitated…”

Ana Maria chuckled softly. “Aye, and well they should be; by pirate law, they’re outsiders poaching in our waters.” She straightened proudly, her attention on the dark ship at the plantation dock. “Jack Sparrow has no part in their Articles, but his name and that of the Black Pearl are known to them. Aye.” She nodded knowingly. “Every man aboard the Jackal will be worried about her sudden appearance and her captain’s intent.”

Elizabeth heard the pride in the young woman’s voice, but she also sensed the tension in her soft words and silently wondered how many times Ana Maria had stood thus, while she watched the daft antics of Jack Sparrow lead him again and again into harm’s way. She shivered and the glass shook in her hands. Should Will Turner decide to join Jack Sparrow, would she have the strength of an Ana Maria to wait with such stoic reserve for his return? Frantically, she pulled her thoughts back to the job at hand and continued to search the dark shoreline.

“The boat at the stern, has it emptied?”

“What–?” Elizabeth carefully found the first boat and watched in fascination as the dark figures of Gibbs’ crew, one at a time, climbed aboard the Jackal. Keeping her voice low, she replied, “Yes – yes, I see them!” Again she swept the deck of the slaver. All hands seemed completely mesmerized by the Pearl and oblivious to the drama about to unfold. “I can’t believe pirates can be so easily surprised with a tactic of their own.”

“Aye,” the woman behind her agreed in soft reply.

Leaving the Jackal to search the waters and the shoreline behind her, Elizabeth frowned. “I – I can’t see the second boat.” Reversing directions with the glass, she again swept the shoreline. Did she feel a minute stiffening of the figure beside her?

“You’ll not see them in the darkness. They be under the docks among the pilings,” the young steersman whispered confidently, her face close to Elizabeth’s as they both hunkered at rail level to avoid being seen by the numerous spyglasses sure to be pointed at the Pearl. “From there, the captain and the others will close the dock.”

Elizabeth’s hand stilled on the glass at the meaning behind the young pirate’s words. “All this to capture a pirate ship?” Elizabeth shook her head in frustrated confusion. “What is she carrying?”

“That’s the captain’s business, lady.” The hard edge had returned to Ana Maria’s voice with that touch of cool warning that was wearing on Elizabeth’s patience. She gritted her teeth in irritation.

“And that is fast becoming too easy an excuse for not telling me what is actually going on!” Elizabeth accused. “Why attack another ship of the Brethren and not Port Royal? I thought you were pirates! And why did Jack feel it necessary to bring Will into this madness?”

“Too many questions, ” Ana Maria fenced stubbornly.

“And too few answers!” Elizabeth countered. “I gave my word to Jack that I would follow his orders this night and not interfere. One of those orders given was to act as lookout for you since the Pearl is short-handed and the guns need to be manned.” With jaw jutting out in a warning of her own, the governor’s daughter met Ana Maria’s gaze with determination. “I can’t follow those orders if I don’t know what’s going on or what to look for!”

For a long moment both women traded hard looks, each taking swift measure of the other, neither wanting to give ground, yet both sensing the similarity of their positions. It was Ana Maria who reluctantly broke eye contact and, for the briefest of moments, compassion flicker in her dark eyes. “The Sea Jackal…” she nodded toward the docked ship, “…is captained by an evil man who sailed here from the South Seas with his holds full of human cargo. All were lost…”

“Lost?” Elizabeth struggled to grasp the sudden change of direction in the conversation. “You mean…at sea…?”

“Aye.”

The word, so softly spoken, was almost inaudible, leaving Elizabeth sensing more than hearing the answer. She frowned. “Lost before they could be sold here or in the northern colonies?” Elizabeth stared back in the direction of the docked ship, suddenly understanding. “The plantations. They’re here to replace what they lost.” It was a simple statement of fact spoken with cold disapproval.

Hearing no reply to her question, Elizabeth moved closer. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Ana Maria dipped her head in curt acknowledgement. “Aye,” the young helmsman answered stiffly.

Elizabeth silently mulled over the reluctantly given information. With each question, Ana Maria seemed more and more uncomfortable. Disbelieving suspicion set revulsion across Elizabeth’s pale features. “Jack Sparrow wants the slaves from her?”

Her reaction was returned tenfold by the young helmsman. “The Pearl is no slaver!” Ana Maria spat with unmasked venom. “Nor be her captain!”

Elizabeth took an unwilling step backward at the hostile reply to her accusation, suddenly aware they had both straightened and now stood toe-to-toe in a clash of wills and – she realized – class. Remembering whispered fears from her childhood of escaped slaves found among pirate crews, Elizabeth studied the young woman with dawning realization and felt herself softening towards the other. They were so similar in the emotions they shared toward the men in their lives and yet so different.

“You don’t understand,” Elizabeth whispered urgently, her gaze drifting again toward the docked brig. “I don’t care what Jack Sparrow wants from that ship. Will shouldn’t be here. He’s a blacksmith, a good and honest man. Jack will get him killed – or – or outlawed!” She shuddered at the thought of the skeletal bodies swinging in the Caribbean breezes at Gallows Point. If that should happen, what will Will do? What will we do?

“And is it the blacksmith you love, lady,” Ana Maria challenged, watching her closely. “Or the man?”

Elizabeth started at words spoken aloud that she had but moments before been thinking. “What – what do you mean?”

“No pistol was put to young Turner’s head. He signed as a free man.” She tipped her head to one side to study Elizabeth Swann more closely. “Seems to me, lady, if a woman loves a man, it should be for what he is and not what she would have him be.”

As if summoned by her fears, Elizabeth recalled the Will Turner of only a few short weeks ago, properly attired in hose and shoes, his hair pulled back from his face, eyes dark with longing, but respectful and uncomfortably aware of his station; the man she had thought was so like the boy she had rescued from the sea. She had loved the boy at first sight as strongly as later she had grown to love the man.

Looking down at the darkly varnished railing, Elizabeth pushed the memory aside and without conscious thought allowed another to creep into its place. Another Will Turner, this one was dressed in the clothes of a buccaneer, standing tall, his legs spread to the movement of a ship’s deck. His unbound hair, caught in the sea breeze, framed a handsome face with dark eyes bold, daring and confident. This Will Turner sent chills down her spine as the first never had.

Two men...the same man…Will Turner. Which one did she want? Which did she love? And what was she willing to give to share a life with either? All. She whispered to the night. I would give all to share a life with either. But was she being honest, even to herself? Was it not the second Will Turner who sent her heart beating double time? The bold confidence of him that made her hunger to push the long hair from his face and run her fingers into the open neck of his shirt to touch the smooth skin beneath?

But would either give all for her? Yes! She answered without question. The first would. The second she would have to fight for against innumerable odds: the siren call of the sea, a life without restraint, without a master, filled with adventure and danger, freedom, a life she herself had envied and fantasized all the years of her childhood.

Jack Sparrow ran a tight ship and his crew followed his orders without question. She glanced again toward shore. Would Will Turner be numbered among them before another dawn? Had she already lost him?

A shout from a crewmember fore, followed by another pulled Elizabeth roughly from her thoughts and drew her attention to the Jackal where muffled sounds of gunfire and the following flashes of light broke the darkness.

“Will!” Trepidation, heightened by a sense of helplessness tore the name from her lips. Forgetting the woman at her side, Elizabeth threw the spyglass to her eye frantically searching for a glimpse of the one figure she would know above all others. He was not to be found.

Fumbling with the glass, Elizabeth focused on the docked ship where ghostly figures fought each other across the Jackal’s broad decks, the clash of their weapons, if not heard, fearfully imagined as Elizabeth struggled frantically to find a means of identifying one pirate from another. Even against the dim light of the dock lanterns and the flash of sporadic gunfire, there was no chance of making identification, they moved too swiftly, the distance from them too great, the night too dark. She swept the deck of the ship again and again, then the dock where another group of men had charged towards the ship only to be met by an attacking force before them and another behind them. Jack Sparrow had sprung the trap, but where was Will?

“You waste your time…the darkness…the distance, you’ll not see him.”

Lowering the glass, Elizabeth turned her attention briefly to Ana Maria. The young helmsman’s features were touched by a look of sadness. For herself, for Jack, or – or …remembering the woman’s venom at her accusation…for those lost souls the Jackal had carried? What had happened to them? “The slaves…the ones she carried…how could so – so many have been lost?” Elizabeth hesitated, suddenly realizing she had spoken her thoughts aloud.

“Neglect, lady,” Ana Maria spat with feeling. “Treated no better than cattle with little water, less food…”

So her thoughts had been on those poor lost souls. Elizabeth lowered her eyes, no longer able to look into the pain and heartbreak so naked in the eyes of the other. Her suspicions grew.

“There’s ones of us who have learned much about freedom, milady, be it freedom from a slaver’s chains or from the shackles of a life that will always deny a man…or a woman…the things they desire most.”

Will! How could this woman, no older than she, possibly know of the conflicts that confronted their lives and their desire for each other? Elizabeth’s thoughts spiraled into confusion and despair as she looked within, remembering when she had been asked by her father, only a few short weeks before, to whom she had given her heart. She had answered, not to the blacksmith, but to the pirate. Had she known even than where his life…his blood…would lead him? Where it would take her?

Again the soft voice with wisdom beyond her years spoke up. “You need to know which of those freedoms your man be searching for, lady, then maybe you should ask yourself if you’ve love enough to follow him.”