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The Sacking of Port Royal
by TortugaBlack

CHAPTER 8: The Kidnapping of Elizabeth Swann

Both men were winded before Turner finally slowed to a walk, following a footpath that took them under low hanging foliage of ancient willows and to the edge of a fresh water stream. The small meandering body of water, used to irrigate the estate’s fields, divided the working portion of the property from the governor’s stately manor. Across the small clear stream and on a wooded hill above them, the house stood, a black hole against the lesser darkness of the dying night.

Striding without hesitation to the water’s edge, Turner forded the stream. Underfoot Sparrow could feel steppingstones set firmly in place and smoothed by years of running water. Someone unfamiliar with the crossing would not have found it without direction. He grinned. Obviously, Will Turner had been this way before…and more than once.

Moving confidently up the steep wooded slope to the rear of the manor, they passed the baking ovens behind the kitchen and crept along a bricked walkway to the front of the estate.

The windows along the front of the house, heavily curtained for the night, afforded them a small measure of security from being detected from inside; still they edged forward in silence, careful of their footsteps. Having crossed the front of the house, they turned the far corner and stepped under an overhanging balcony that faced the bay. A wooden trellis, heavy with flowering bougainvillea, stood before them, reaching to the balcony above. Turner stopped.

Sparrow, his attention shifting uneasily between the curtained windows and the openness along the front of the manor, stumbled into the younger man. “Where–?”

Turner pointed above them.

“Up…there? ” Sparrow hissed. He glanced hurried about.

“Her rooms open onto this balcony.”

“Had we more time, mate, I would be most interested in knowing how you came by that bit of information,” the pirate grumbled, already sorry he had not forced the younger man into the boat at gunpoint.

“I thought you were in hurry.” Will reached for the first narrow wooden rung on the trellis. There was a soft creak of straining wood as his foot settled among the flowering vines. A hand stopped him from taking the next step and he felt the brushing of beads at his neck, a face next to his.

“Have you made this assault before, mate?”

“Of course not!” Will hissed, pulling away from the inquiring man at his back. He reached for the next rung. The hand stopped him again. The face was back.

“I know this subject of conversation may not be to your liking, Will Turner, but if we’re to continue this kidnapping of the fair Miss Swann without waking the household, I suggest I do the climbing.”

“And, why would I agree to that?”

At words spoken louder than intended, both men anxiously eyed the curtained windows. No outcry met their concerns and they slowly relaxed. Sparrow again moved closer. He spoke in a low whisper.

“Because, mate, by the looks of that rigging it would better serve a sailor than a blacksmith.”

Will Turner glared back at the darkly amused pirate. “And let you walk into Elizabeth’s bedroom with her unattended? I think not.” He took another step.

“Oh, good,” Sparrow replied in feigned relief. “Back to the boat then…” He turned away from the house.

“Wait!” A soft crack and Will Turner dropped to the ground before the wooden rung broke under his weight. “Jack, we can’t leave her here!”

“We can, mate.” Sparrow took another step away from the trellis.

“Jack,” Will whispered urgently. “Jack!”

“Aye?” Sparrow turned back.

“Okay…”

Shrugging, the wiry pirate shouldered Will aside and reached for the first rung of the trellis. A hand on his shoulder and again the young smithy stopped him.

“Jack…”

“Aye?” Sparrow snapped sharply.

Will looked from the flowering trellis to the rigid back of the lean hard-bodied pirate and knew he could say nothing that would relieve his concern until Elizabeth Swann stood beside him in the predawn. He dropped his hand. “Hurry.”

Sparrow nodded, reaching high for the first rung and, in the swift, light-footed movements of a man long familiar with such footing, the pirate advanced quickly to the top of the trellis. Swinging his leg over the railing, he dropped lightly onto the balcony and moved silently into the narrowing shadows of the building’s outer wall.

The double doors leading into the darkened room were closed but not latched. Momentary surprise stayed his hand. With an amused grin Sparrow pushed the nearest door slowly open. Once inside he eased past the door and, with his back to his only route of escape, stood motionless while he got his first look at the room. Only steps from him and to the left of the double doors, he could make out the contours of a huge four-poster and the slight figure lightly covered in its feathered depths. The grin broadened, then quickly disappeared as he realized while he hesitated the light was quickening in the east. They were running out of time.

Reacting to the cool breath of the new day on the back of her neck, Elizabeth Swann drew the sheet closer and snuggled deeper into the soft down of her pillow. It was the familiar scent of flowers and the more bracing smell of the sea that slowly awoke her senses to the cool touch of outside air. A sleep-heavy mind struggled with the problem. Had the balcony doors been left open the night before? Her eyes flew open. No! She remembered closing them against the night air before retiring. A work-hardened hand, wrapped in foul-smelling leather, settled over her mouth and she felt the mattress sink behind her back. The hand tightened and she was pulled backward into what was unmistakably a hard male body. Her eyes widened first in surprise, then in fear. Instinctively she grabbed at the strong hand over her mouth only to feel another arm wrap around her waist and pull her even closer to the body behind her, further limiting her struggles.

Her hands locked around the strong wrist that held her mouth, she sensed movement next to her face and felt a warm breath on her neck. Nostrils flaring both in fear and an attempt to draw breath, she caught the scent of the intruder and it, too, was unmistakably male and carried the smell of the sea. The light brush of coarse hair set her heart pounding as soft lips touched her neck and moved up to the sensitive and very erotic spot behind her left ear, sending a shiver through her of unanticipated and unwanted arousal before fear again gripped her. Silently she fought helplessly against the strong hands that held her fast.

The lips moved closer to her ear. “As much as I would like to renew our…acquaintance in a memorable fashion…for both of us…Miss Swann, I’m afraid it will have to wait for another and better time.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened further at the whispered words, the voice quickly recognized. Jack Sparrow! A surge of hot anger replaced the fear and she fought harder, attempting to sink her teeth into the hand that remained tightly across her mouth. Her struggles brought only a soft chuckle for her efforts. The hand tightened and the lips were again at her ear.

“I’m a man what likes a lively strumpet in his bed, darlin’,” Sparrow drawled. “But if you don’t quit struggling you’re going to encourage advances that I’m liable to regret.”

Her heart pounding more in anger than fear, Elizabeth Swann fumed at the man’s teasing words. With the smell of him strong in her nostrils and the teasing touch of small beaded braids tickling her neck, Elizabeth Swann unwillingly gave in, silently promising quick retaliation should the hands relax their hold.

“Listen, luv, and listen carefully.” The voice had lost its teasing lightness.

Elizabeth caught her breath and stilled under his touch.

“Good,” he whispered. “I’ve come to take you to Will Turner. Do you understand?”

Elizabeth sucked in a quick surprised breath and her heart leapt. Will! Had something happened to Will? She nodded as best she could under the tight grip.

“Understand, missy, there’s no time to waste. When I release you, dress quickly in something…functional. Savvy?” Her head nodded. “We’ll leave the way I came, down the wood rigging on the side of your deck.”

Again Elizabeth nodded her understanding, remaining motionless against him. Slowly, cautiously, the hand eased its hold. When she made no attempt to cry out or struggle, it relaxed. Free of the strangling hold, she threw herself across the bed and away from the pirate. “Jack Sparrow!” she hissed. “Where’s Will? What have you done now?”

“Captain, darlin’. Captain Jack Sparrow!” The handsome pirate flashed her a quick smile, his dark eyes alight with appreciation of the lovely sight before him.

All too aware of the man’s approving gaze, Elizabeth drew the sheet around her. “Where’s Will?” There was now more suspicion than concern in her voice.

Sensing a stalemate if he remained next to her, Jack Sparrow eased off the bed. “He’s waiting below.” He flicked his hands in a quickening gesture towards her. “Hurry!”

Bounding from her bed, but carefully keeping the four-poster safely between herself and the amused pirate, Elizabeth paused only long enough to throw open the lid to a beautifully handcrafted mahogany chest, dig into its depths and pull forth what appeared to be a bundle of clothing and a pair of leather moccasins. Clutching the bundle to her, she disappeared behind the dressing screen at the opposite end of the room.

“Hurry, luv, night’s waning…” Sparrow urged. He shot an anxious glance towards the balcony doors. Already, he could make out the contours of the trees beyond. “Not to mention what dear William may be imagining if we do not hasten,” he mumbled out of her hearing. Brief moments passed in silence broken only by the soft footfalls of the pirate’s anxious pacing and the rustling of clothing behind the dressing screen.

Both ceased with Elizabeth’s reappearance to his wide-eyed scrutiny.

Dressed in white pants and linen shirt, part of the British Naval uniform she had worn only weeks before, Elizabeth drew both appreciative appraisal and a raised eyebrow. “From your trousseau, darlin’? The crooked grin widened at her obvious unease. “Mementos?”

Ignoring his teasing, Elizabeth tossed her nightwear onto her bed and moved toward the small desk in front of screen.

“My crew sees you in those togs, luv, and I’ll be facing another mutiny,” he purred.

Reaching the desk, her back to Sparrow, Elizabeth struck flint to tender, the resulting spark catching the wick of a small oil lamp set in a crystal globe before her. As the shadows of lingering darkness receded before the feeble light, she pulled a sheet of parchment towards her and reached for quill and inkwell.

Distracted by the graceful curves of the very womanly body through the thin material of the white breeches, Sparrow was slow in discerning her intentions until too late. “No! No! Not good!” He rushed forward, intent on tearing the vellum from her hands.

“It won’t be…” Elizabeth whispered calmly, her right elbow catching the charging pirate in the solar plexus as she dipped the quill into the inkwell. “….If I’m found missing from my bed without explanation.

Caught off guard by the unexpected blow, Sparrow reeled backward. Too late to stop her, he could only grit his teeth in helpless frustration. Any further actions on his part would only arouse a household already on the verge of waking. Stepping cautiously up behind her, carefully avoiding the moving elbow, he peered anxiously over her shoulder. Before he could focus on the missive, she dropped the quill, whirled and pushed past him. His lesson learned Jack Sparrow sidestepped quickly out of her way before edging forward again to read the message. Gone to meet Will Turner. Don’t worry.

“And someone’s not going to worry about that?” he mumbled in wry amusement.

“I believe you mentioned…hurry, ” her eager voice whispered from across the room.

Muttering a few choice execrations at a plan spinning rapidly out of his control, Sparrow sprinted through the double doors to see Elizabeth disappear over the side of the balcony railing onto the trellis. Leaving the doors standing open behind him, the captain of the Black Pearl anxiously eased from the thinning shadows onto the wooden latticework and scurried down after her, all too aware of the overburdened framework, which trembled ominously under him. Pressed tightly into the heavy foliage of the bougainvillea and fearing the collapse of the trellis and the possibility of a noisy fall, Sparrow loosened his hold and dropped. He hit the ground on his feet, stumbled, steadied and swiftly looked for the young woman he had followed.

Next to him against the wall of the great house, the young couple stood wrapped in a tight embrace while they waited for him. “Not now! Not now!” he whispered urgently. “Will! Elizabeth! To the boat!” Somewhere behind the house a cock crowed its greeting to the awakening day. Sparrow, a hand on the hilt of his sword swinging it clear of his legs, broke past the couple and ran for the beach. Will, catching the urgency in the pirate’s voice, grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and pulling her into a run, followed in Sparrow’s wake.

“Will, where–” Elizabeth gasped then fell silent, the better to concentrate on her footing, thankful for the soft footwear that enabled her to match the long strides of the man at her side. Ahead of them Sparrow increased the pace.

Tearing down the slopping trail in a headlong rush to the stream, the lean sure-footed pirate led the way, easily dodging the willow overhangs and the heavy brush that pushed into the footpath. Winded, but thankful to still be on their feet, they reached the small stream, splashed across it and sprinted for the beach. At the top of the dune above Gallows Point, they halted and breathlessly scanned the deserted beach.

“There!” Sparrow pointed seaward.

Coming in on a breaking wave, a long boat with one man at the oars made for the beach. Sparrow charged down the dune and rushed to meet the incoming craft, Will and Elizabeth close behind. Struggling in the loose sand on legs already trembling from her sprint from the house, Elizabeth watched the boat run aground. A familiar figure jumped to the sand and stood awaiting them.

“Mister…Gibbs!” Elizabeth gasped in greeting as they reached the Pearl’s first mate.

“Miss Swann. Will,” the older man acknowledged with a quick smile. “Jack, we best be off.”

With a quick nod in agreement, Sparrow waded into the surf, grabbed the side of the boat opposite his first mate and held it steady. Will handed Elizabeth into the sturdy craft. Rushing to beat the breaking dawn, the three men pushed the long boat from the sand, turned her bow toward the sea and boarded her. With Sparrow at the bow, Will and Gibbs put oars into the water and rowed the craft into the next wave, breeched it and eased the boat into open water. Ahead of them the dark silhouette of the Black Pearl glided away from the camouflage of the coastline to meet them. Her sails open to the morning breezes, the galley skimmed eagerly through the calm waters of the cove, her wake exposing the dark waters to the first light of dawn, bringing out the breathtaking beauty of the blue seas.

Closing the distance the helmsman turned the Pearl parallel to the beach and emptied her sails. The great ship slowed and came gracefully alongside the smaller craft. Gibbs stood confidently in the swaying boat and tossed a coiled rope up to the crewman positioned at the rail awaiting his throw. Catching the rope the deckhand drew the long boat along side and tethered it firmly against the Pearl’s hull. Immediately a rope ladder was anchored to the railing and thrown over the side. With the same cat-like grace that had taken him up the rotting trellis, Jack Sparrow sprang up the ladder, stepped smartly aboard and took command. “Sailor, hold tight to that rope until everyone’s aboard, then secure the longboat and raise sails!”

“Aye, Cap’n, aye!” the seaman answered smartly and turned to his task.

With the help of the crewman at the railing above him, Gibbs held the boat steady as Will stood and helped Elizabeth onto the ladder, steadying it as she climbed. Waiting until she was helped over the railing and safely aboard, he quickly followed. Behind him Gibbs locked the oars and followed him up.

On deck, his hands clasped impatiently behind his back, Jack Sparrow paced anxiously, aware of the dawn breaking around them. The longboat pulled aboard and secured, he turned to his first mate.

“Mister Gibbs, step lively, man, we have a rendezvous with the Rona. See that we’re not the last to get there!”

“Aye, Captain!” With a nod to the young couple in parting, Gibbs turned smartly on his heel and moving toward the helm.

In answer to her captain’s command, the pirate galley turned her stern to the beach, found the outgoing tide, and reached for the wind. Easing out of the cove past Gallows Point with Refuge Cay between her and Port Royal, the Black Pearl spread her dark sails and sped away from the coastline toward the open seas.