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The Sacking of Port Royal
by TortugaBlack

CHAPTER 7: The Beach at Gallows Point

The slender thread of a dying moon gave them little light as they wound silently through the dark streets of Port Royal, staying to the deeper shadows, but always moving toward the sea. Occasionally a lone figure would stumble past, but none showed any interest in the two men. Reaching the docks Sparrow turned south and moved into a jog, a hand to the hilt of the new sword kept it clear of his legs as he ran. Will Turner trotted easily at his side.

“Where did…you…anchor?” Will inquired breathlessly then fell silent as they put Port Royal to their backs and continued along the empty beach. Staying just above the water’s edge, they ran on wet sands, the incoming surf reaching with foaming fingers to erase their footsteps as they passed. Hurrying around the jagged outcropping of the point, they jogged into a small cove. There, lying just off shore, rode the Black Pearl in waters deep enough to allow her a quick leap to the open seas, her dark sails uncomfortably bold against the threat of the coming dawn.

Sliding to a stop both men were momentarily caught off guard by strong emotions brought on at the sight of her trim elegant lines; Sparrow with the pleasure of ownership and concern for the galley’s safety, Will Turner with a sudden and unexpected longing for the sea. Shaken from his reverie by the fading darkness, Sparrow stepped away from the young blacksmith and into the foaming surf to await the longboat edging from the Pearl’s shadow and moving steadily towards shore.

Staying above the waterline Turner surveyed their surroundings, the darkness of pre-dawn making familiar landmarks strangely alien. He frowned. “Jack, where are we?”

Not taking his eyes from the advancing boat, Sparrow motioned in the general direction of a narrow spit of rock where something not quite recognizable in the darkness swayed ominously in the early morning breezes. “Gallows Point, mate.” For a brief moment he shifted his attention to the man standing behind him. “Of course, such harsh reminders were not put there for you...” He took another anxious step into the surf. “…Yet,” he finished.

“Jack! Wait! The attack…”

The pirate’s shoulders slumped at the sudden urgency in the smithy’s voice. He turned to face the younger man. “Mister Turner, I have told you what is about to happen in less than two days time. The tide has shifted, dawn is upon us…we must get under sail…now!”

Wading into the surf Will Turner reached a bold hand to the other’s arm. “In an attack on Port Royal, the governor’s estate could easily be one of the first hit!” When his words got no reaction from the pirate, Will swore in desperation. “It’s by Norrington’s hand that pirates are brought to trial, Jack! But it’s by the governor’s decree that they’re hanged! Elizabeth could be in danger…”

The longboat slid into the shallows and the dark figure at the oars jumped into the water. Pulling free of Turner’s grip, Sparrow helped his first mate drag the small craft out of the surf. “Mister Gibbs, how goes the watch?”

Joshamee Gibbs gave the boat one last tug onto dry sand before facing Sparrow, the quickening breeze lightly fingering the gray-streaked muttonchops that disappeared into the darker hair of the man’s beard. “Calm and quiet, Cap’n, but daylight’s pressin’, sir.” Looking over the pirate captain’s shoulder, he eyed the young smithy. “Mister Turner, good it is seein’ ye again, mate.”

“Mister Gibbs,” Will acknowledged in quick greeting before pushing rudely past the Pearl’s first mate, his hand again reaching to stop Sparrow. At his touch the pirate captain turned. In the faint illumination of the thin moon, night had transformed the pirate’s kohl-darkened eyes into black holes, further accenting the planes and darkening the hollows of his face, giving it a strangely skeletal illusion. Momentarily taken aback by the illusion, Will dropped his hand from the other’s arm. “Jack, we can’t leave her!”

“Mister Turner, the Pearl goes forth into bloody battle in a night’s time.” The man’s deep voice, hard-edged and serious, broke the lingering spell. “Do you think Miss Swann will be any safer on her decks than in the governor’s fine house with the governor’s own people to protect her?”

“They weren’t able to protect her the last time the Pearl entered these waters,” Will reminded him stubbornly.

“She went willingly under the protection of Parley,” Sparrow fenced.

Will Turner’s brow furrowed in suspicion. “How did you…?”

Sparrow, already regretting his words, looked skyward before sighing and again meeting the questioning look of the younger man. “Why else would young missy have been taken unharmed by Barbossa’s miscreants aboard the Pearl when they assumed she was naught but a maid in the governor’s house?”

“Oh,” Will mumbled.

“Cap’n…” Gibbs interjected. “The night is lifting…”

“It is.” Sparrow stepped into the shallows, reaching for the sides of the longboat to ease her back into the water.

“Jack, I’m not leaving without her.”

Sparrow wheeled about and when he again faced Turner, the flintlock was in his hand, the hammer fully cocked, the black bore of the muzzle centered on the younger man’s belt buckle. “Mister Turner, did you not hear Mister Gibbs’ words? We have no time for this debate. Get…into…the…boat.”

“You need her…” Will offered in desperation.

Sparrow’s expression remained firm. “A fine woman, she is, mate,” he drawled in mockery, “but I prefer mine a bit more willing…and lot less haughty.”

“And would it not be of interest to you in knowing the whereabouts of Commodore Norrington and the Dauntless?” Will played his hold card.

Sparrow stiffened. “The Dauntless was seen under full sail in the straits…”

Turner’s only comment was the raising of one dark brow. “Then you need know nothing more.” He stepped toward the boat. Behind him he heard the click of the hammer’s release.

“Mate, you do have a way with the King’s own English,” Sparrow complained. “What words have you to say of Norrington’s plans and what will it cost me to hear them?”

“Elizabeth comes with us.”

“That one I had figured,” Sparrow responded wearily.

“Nothing more. But we don’t leave without her.”

Sparrow slid the flintlock back into his belt and turned to his first mate. “Mister Gibbs, it would seem we are to be further delayed. If the dawn beats us to these shores, move the Pearl to the far side of Refuge Cay, drop her sails and hug the shoreline. If the sun clears the horizon, you are to continue to our rendezvous with the Rona.”

“Aye, Cap’n!” Gibbs shot an unhappy glare in Will Turner’s direction. “It be bad luck bringin’ another woman aboard, sir…especially that one.”

“You have your orders, Mister Gibbs.” His course already set landward, Sparrow sauntered purposely away from his crewman, pausing only long enough to fling an afterthought in his wake. “But seeing as how the Pearl already has one good woman aboard who pulls her weight and does her share, perhaps another will further encourage the crew to emulate the first.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs replied to Sparrow’s back. “Or brew a hurricane,” he grumbled.