Chapter Eleven
Aye! But we're loved by our mommies and dads!
Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!
Propelled by the trade winds rushing down the Windward Passage, the Black Pearl sped southeast, on the same heading the Tarantula had taken as she fled the scene of her crime. The bow of the pirate ship rose and dived confidently on the breakers. When Will was finished aloft, he looked back at the helm and saw that Jack had relieved AnaMaria at the wheel, and that Elizabeth and the Commodore stood near him. Elizabeth gripped the gunwale and leaned out, peering ahead into the wind, her long hair streaming behind her. Lacking any instructions, Will descended and headed aft to join them.
Jack appeared not to notice when Will stood at his shoulder, but Elizabeth came and gripped his hand again. The Commodore took her place at the rail, scanning the horizon. They stayed like that for many minutes, Jack's ship bounding over the sea at nigh uncatchable speed, salty spray stinging them all, and occasionally, the luff of a sail hitting the mast with a sound like thunder. Will slid his hand around his wife's waist and realized he had gone from fearing his life was over to feeling perfectly happy in under an hour.
Jack broke Will's reverie with a yell. "Gibbs! AnaMaria!"
When he had the attention of the two of them, Jack's manner shifted. "Would you mind terribly joining me up here?" he asked, in a very un-captainy way. The two pirates glanced at each other, Gibbs on deck, and AnaMaria just starting to ascend the mainmast rigging. They both left their work and climbed up to the wheel. Jack grinned at them. "Just stand there for a bit," he said.
Looking puzzled, AnaMaria and Gibbs joined Will and Elizabeth, making a cluster of four behind Jack at the wheel, with Norrington off to the side. Jack hummed to himself as the wind whistled through the riggings.
AnaMaria scowled her question at Will, and he shrugged.
Finally Gibbs stepped forward. "Er, Captain? We've got ourselves some work to do; did you need something?"
"No, I'm done," said Jack. "You can go to it."
AnaMaria hopped into the waist immediately, shaking her head. Gibbs gave Jack a puzzled half smile, and followed her.
Will chuckled.
"What's Jack doing?" Elizabeth asked.
"I don't know," Will said, but he thought he did. For a few moments Jack had been at the helm of his beloved ship and surrounded by his favorite people.
Will squeezed Elizabeth harder.
Norrington came away from the rail and faced the wheel. "Sparrow," he said, "there's no sign of her. She's the same class as your ship - faster than the Interceptor was. You'd better be right about where she's headed, because we won't catch her."
"But, Commodore, we have something the Tarantula doesn't," Will said.
"What's that?"
Will felt pleased that the Commodore, who on the Deadly Earnest would hardly deign to speak to a lowly seaman like Will, was now the one in the dark. He smiled. "We have Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack laughed. "The Commodore's right to be concerned. Stanley may not be going where we think. He doesn't know what to believe, now."
"You think he didn't believe you were telling the truth, after all?"
"If you were Stanley, Mate, would you have believed me?"
Will thought about that. "If I were Stanley," he said, "I wouldn't be able to resist checking."
Jack nodded slowly, his eyes half closed as he looked over the bow out to sea.
Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw Norrington looking frustrated. It must be difficult for a habitual commander to stand by and let others make the decisions, Will reflected, with just a touch of pleasure.
Will studied how Jack caressed the wheel, holding his course with confidence, his gaze flicking from the surface sea currents to the telltales, small streamers attached to the masts and lines indicating the direction of the winds. Even with his wife in one arm, Will's hands itched to hold the helm, himself.
Elizabeth led Will to the stairs below the wheel where the two of them could sit and talk quietly for a while. There they each heard the other's story. They both looked up when they felt Jack adjust their course to port, heading the ship almost due east. "We must be south of Hispaniola, now," Elizabeth said. Will wished he had the map of the Caribbean in his head the way she seemed to. He resolved to study up at the first chance he had.
The sun lowered behind them, bringing to a close one of the longest days of Will's life. A bone-deep weariness gripped him, and he began to notice some aches and stiffness from his various exertions. He didn't care to ever recall again his struggle underwater to reach his boot, extract the blade without dropping it, and slice his hands free of the ropes, all the while sinking deeper. He glanced up at Jack. "Jack's been a prisoner for days," he said to Elizabeth. "He must be tired."
"More likely hungry," Elizabeth said with a small smile.
Will frowned. "I think they fed him . . ." he said, puzzled.
"Never mind," she said, her smile broadening. She stood, and Will followed her. They approached Jack, just as Norrington came toward him from the other side. Whatever she had intended to do or say, she paused, as some activity pre-empted her.
"Furl the gallants and reef the topsails!" Jack sang out.
This time Will climbed the mizzenmast rigging, since it was nearest to him. The sound of the conversation below carried up to him clearly.
"Sparrow!" said Norrington, "We're losing the wind and you're *dropping* canvas?"
"Don't want to catch them now, with night coming on," Sparrow answered mildly. "They lost the wind before we did."
"You afraid to fight him at night?" Norrington asked.
"I don't want to spend all night worrying that he's sneaking up on us. We haven't seen him yet, so he hasn't seen us. If he knows we're chasing him, he'll turn and fight."
Like everyone else aloft, Will strained his eyes to scan the ocean. He saw nothing but the foam-frosted expanse of water stretching to the edge of the earth. He sighed and climbed down.
"Once it's dark, we'll set the sails again and lay ahead with no lights," Jack was saying. "Maybe we'll see theirs."
Jack spotted Will. "Bootstrap, take the helm," he said. "I want to get a fresh shirt."
Will exchanged startled glances with Elizabeth, but hurried to the wheel, delighted. Jack relinquished the helm with no sign that he had noticed anything odd about what he had said.
"Uh, Jack, I have petticoats drying in your cabin," Elizabeth said. "The crew let me use the captain's cabin . . ."
"That's all right, love," Jack said with a weary shrug as he turned to go.
"Captain Sparrow!" Norrington called. "You aren't going to see the lady's undergarments!"
If Will had needed a second indicator that Jack was tired, he would have had it when Jack turned and snapped, "I bloody well am, Mate, and it's not the first time!"
In his most haughty voice, Norrington said, "You are no gentleman, sir."
Gibbs appeared at Jack's side, his hand on the hilt of a cutlass.
Jack's countenance was a canvas of changing emotion. He went from annoyance to surprise to laughter in seconds. He held out a restraining hand to Gibbs as he guffawed. Gibbs relaxed, and so did Will. Norrington grew more rigid, if that was possible.
"Turner!" Norrington barked. "Are you going to stand for this?"
Will's mind whirled, but one thought came through clearly - Elizabeth would not easily forgive him for doing or saying anything on her behalf without knowing her mind on the matter. He looked at his wife and saw on her face only anger at Norrington.
Jack regained himself, and, his eyes still sparkling with mirth, bowed deeply toward Will. "Mr. and Mrs. Turner, I apologize," he said. "Mr. Turner, please forgive my slight to your wife. Mrs. Turner, please go and hide your petticoats. Commodore, please don't provoke my helmsman; he has his hands full. And give us some warning before you do that again, Mate! It's not healthy to laugh this hard."
Jack and Gibbs moved away to speak together, and Elizabeth slid around them, hurrying to comply.
Still looking angry, Norrington spoke to Will. "Did you know that?" he asked.
"What, that Jack has seen my wife in her undergarments? Yes. I was there."
"You. Were?" Norrington looked so scandalized, that Will had a hard time keeping a straight face.
"She was in her chemise when Barbossa put them both overboard. That's how you found them, remember?"
"That incident with Sparrow substantially ruined Elizabeth's reputation; you know that," Norrington said.
Will no longer found the conversation funny. "I notice you were still willing to marry her."
Norrington lifted his chin. "Out of respect for her father. It was charity."
"Nothing to do with love? Well, I'm so glad she got the better man, then."
"You are a blacksmith."
"I am a pirate. Aboard a pirate ship. You forget your place, Commodore."
Jack appeared, in that uncanny way he had of popping up, unheard. "Commodore, I asked you not to provoke my helmsman."
Tight-lipped, Norrington turned away.
"You need to correct a bit to port, Lad. He distracted you. The tide's running out; do you feel it?"
Will did. Like a wind where there was no wind, the current was nudging the ship. He corrected, and grinned at Jack. "I feel it," he said. "That tells me there's land to the north, even though I can't see it, right?"
Jack smiled. "Aye. But you need to learn the feel of a tide from other currents. It can fool you."
Elizabeth emerged from the captain's cabin carrying a stuff sack, and as she pulled the door shut, Jack said quietly, "I never touched your lady wife, Will."
"I know, Jack. She told me."
"So it's her word you trust, not my honor, then?"
"Your . . . honor?" Will choked, then relaxed as he saw the smirk on Jack's face.
Elizabeth joined them, wearing a shawl around her shoulders against the evening chill.
Jack saluted her insolently and headed for the cabin. "I'll be back when it's full dark," he said.