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In the Hollow of the Heart	By : bonnyblonde Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 6365 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean nor do I make any money from the publication of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
I'm sure I had my few dedicated readers wondering if the story was truly over or not. The truth is...well, sort of! Hahahaha! This is the final installment of this story, at any rate...the last addition to a tale that took two years to finish. Will there be more? Maybe, although the fourth movie flows (somewhat) from this chapter. Regardless, if you have been following the story, I hope you like how I've wrapped it all up (so to speak). Think of it as an early Christmas present.
Thanks once again to RF for her much appreciated input and honesty - ITHOTH has been a fun ride, no? :)
*~*~*~*~*~*

Epilogue
One night off the coast of Hispaniola, eight years after leaving Bridgeport...
Elizabeth clung to the worn coil of rope so tightly that her arms shook. A throbbing ache mercilessly clawed its way across her shoulder blades as her muscles seized and bunched from the exertion. That agony combined with the thousand tiny cuts that the rough twine inflicted on her slick palms seemed like nothing, though, when compared to the terrible spears of pain that threatened to rip her apart from the inside out.
Her head snapped back and her knees almost gave way beneath her as another violent spasm wracked her body. For a moment, she simply hung stiffly from the rope secured to the timber overhead as tears streamed over her feverish cheeks, clenching her teeth against screams that threatened to burst once again from her already-raw throat.
“Boy! Get yer arms around yer ma and prop her up! She must stay standin’ if I’m to help her!” Hector snapped at the tall, broad-shouldered young man at Elizabeth’s back.
Liam – the son who had (to his father’s great pride and satisfaction) long ago shed the moniker of ‘William’ while at the same time taking up the family name ‘Barbossa’ – moved instantly to obey Hector’s command. Elizabeth released the rope and sagged against him, eternally grateful that he could give her strength when hers was so sorely taxed. “I have you, Ma,” Liam muttered against her sweaty temple, the fear he so rarely showed clear in his deepening voice. “Da will set things right.”
Under any other circumstances, she would have been horrified at her son being forced to witness his mother in such a vulnerable and indecent state, but her dire situation made the hard and fast rules of propriety seem laughable.
“I can’t...I don’t think...” Her whimper evolved into a wail she could not suppress as her abdomen convulsed again, trying vainly to expel the child therein. She thrashed like a wild animal in a trap, consumed by a sheet of scarlet pain and fighting an insane desire to flee.
“’Lizabeth!” barked Hector in angry alarm. He leaped to his feet from where he’d been kneeling before her and caught her face in his bloodied hands, waiting until the excruciating barrage receded slightly and she was left gasping in its wake. His hair was damp, his brow dotted with perspiration, and the slight tremor in his stained fingers spoke to the toll her struggle was taking on him even as he fought to stay composed for her sake.
“Hector,” she sobbed pitifully, the single word a desperate plea for him to end her torment. “It shouldn’t be like this...it isn’t right that it’s taking so long...hurts....it hurts...”
“Ye must listen to me, lass,” he answered with a soft growl that under other circumstances would have been appealing. In fact, it was that very velvet tone that had led them to the situation in which they now found themselves. “The babe ain’t lying proper – comin’ into the world arse-backwards, the stubborn tyke. ‘Tis why ye have toiled so long fer naught.”
Elizabeth tearfully nodded her understanding even as her hopes sank. So many mothers and infants died due to the very same condition, and the fact that she was no longer a young woman with untold reserves of stamina reduced her odds of surviving even further. It wasn’t fair...she had always been careful to take precautions to prevent conception, knowing full well she had long passed the age where she wanted to go through another pregnancy. The fates had other plans for her, though, and it had only taken a single night of inebriated carelessness to find herself where she was now.
“I must bring forth the legs one at a time before ye can go any further – ye must resist the urge to bear down until I say otherwise,” Hector continued, firmly grasping her face to keep her full attention. “Once I do that, I’ll holler and then ye must squat and push hard and fast. The pull o’ the earth will speed the birth – but I need ye to endure fer just a little longer.”
“It’s starting again...oh God...!” she moaned, feeling another contraction peaking and the accompanying wave of agony crashing in on her. She sank her fingernails into Liam’s wiry arms and braced herself as the onslaught began again. Never had she felt so weak, so helpless – whatever courage she might have possessed had been gradually stripped away with each hour she’d struggled to bring her baby forth into the world.
Hector wasted no time, dropping to his knees before her again and shoving his sleeves further up his forearms as he readied himself for the procedure. “Spread yer legs a bit more...aye, that’s it,” he said, pushing her thighs apart. “It’s gonna hurt when I slip me finger in, so ye must be ready. Liam, keep her steady!”
“Aye, sir,” Liam answered without hesitation. The lanky sixteen year old braced his legs and cinched his arms more tightly around Elizabeth’s chest, bunching her crumpled shift underneath her swollen breasts in the process.
As unbearable as her distress had been before, it was compounded tenfold with the sudden piercing intrusion of Hector’s finger into her body. In that moment, Elizabeth shrieked with every shred of breath in her lungs and very nearly passed out. Her muscles all went slack and black dots swam before her eyes as she sucked in each desperate breath.
Giving birth to her first child had been far from pleasurable, but it had been quick and relatively short, helped along by the practiced ministrations of an experienced midwife. But this...the baby was caught fast as a cork in a bottle...the three of them were trapped together in the dark, muggy cabin...the sea roiled ceaselessly beneath the Pearl...and bone-jarring agony filled every aspect of her world. A worse hell would have been impossible to imagine.
“Once more, me brave girl, and ye’ll be there. A matter of moments and the worst will have passed, I swear to ye.”
Elizabeth cried pitifully and shook her head as Hector worked to extract the other leg. She was simply too drained to utter a coherent word, although there were a few choice expletives that came sharply to mind as he attempted to shift the baby’s position.
“That’s it...just a bit further. ‘Lizabeth...got it!”
Suddenly and surprisingly, the worst of the pain abated, leaving her with only a persistent pressure and the irresistible need to push. Her eyes fluttered open and looked at Hector beseechingly.
“Aye, ‘tis time,” he confirmed solemnly, his hands hidden beneath the bulge of her protruding stomach. “Quickly now, ‘Lizabeth! The babe has been far too long in the womb, we haven’t a moment to lose.”
Elizabeth squirmed in Liam’s grasp until he loosened his hold slightly and she could stoop into a crouch. With one hand she reached out to clutch Hector’s shoulder while keeping the other on Liam’s forearm so she could maintain her balance. Sweat stung her eyes and soaked her hair as she bowed her head and gritted her teeth, thrusting in time with each long contraction.
“Again!” came the brusque command, prompting a snarl from Elizabeth as she squeezed her eyes closed, grunting loudly as she did as he asked. She felt stretched to the limit as the tiny body slid forth in a rush of fluid and the baby’s head began to crown. There was a prolonged stinging sensation that caused her to hiss loudly, but she knew that it signalled that relief was finally on the horizon. After what seemed hours, the baby was free of her body and she swayed weakly in Liam’s arms.
“Hold off! I’ve got him! Liam, down on yer knees, let yer ma lean back against ye whilst I care for the wee one.”
“It’s a boy?” Elizabeth queried shakily, her trembling legs finally giving way as Liam lowered her carefully to the floor and settled her into a sitting position against his thighs. There was a flutter of fear in her throat – the baby had yet to make a sound and what little she could see from where he was curled up within Hector’s arms, his little limbs were bluish and limp. “Hector...is he...?”
She tried to sit, straining to get a better look at her newborn son. As she watched anxiously, Hector turned the baby on its belly, holding the tiny head in the palm of his hand with the torso resting along his forearm. With his other hand, he vigorously rubbed at the baby’s back.
“Let’s hear ye, lad,” Hector encouraged softly, his long fingers moving rhythmically.   “Shout out now! Give fair warnin’ that another Barbossa has made his grand entrance into the world!”
After several agonizing seconds during which the heartfelt prayers of her childhood spilled reflexively from Elizabeth’s lips, the baby finally shivered and gave a wet, gagging cough before sucking in his first breath. The yowl that followed was loud and harsh, but the sweetest sound that she could have hoped to hear for all that. Tears trickled down Elizabeth’s cheeks as she thanked whatever gods had heard her plea.
“Aye, that’s got it,” Hector crooned wearily, placing the bawling infant on her chest.   Still weeping, Elizabeth tucked the soft cloth around the pinkish, dewy body of her baby son. The warmth of her skin against his seemed to comfort him and his cries gradually faded to indignant squeals as he blinked blearily against the brightness of his new surroundings.
“My little man,” she said tearfully, cleaning the chalky white residue from his small cheek with a corner of the blanket. Elizabeth nuzzled his tiny face with her nose and slipped her finger into his grasping hand.
“A strappin’ boy, to be sure, an’ near as handsome as his father,” Hector teased gently, leaning over to buss her brow. His sea blue eyes flicked up to meet Liam’s soft brown ones. “A brave thin’ ye did fer yer ma, stayin’ at her side. Childbirth ain’t fer the faint o’ heart. Now that ye’ve been through such a trial, there’ll be naught as will faze ye hereafter.”
“I thought...it was awful, what she went through...” Elizabeth heard Liam swallow hard and she looked back up at her eldest son, finally understanding how terrifying it had all been for him. The saucy smile he almost always wore, so like his father’s, was noticeably absent. Instead, his young face was drawn and his sparsely whiskered chin quivered slightly as Hector severed the cord with a swift, decisive flick of his dagger. “I didn’t know if...”
Liam’s words were cut short as Elizabeth moaned again, more pain twisting her belly. Her body was working to rid itself of the afterbirth, a process nearly as taxing as delivering the baby itself. “Liam...lay me down and then take your brother. Slip him into the cradle and cover him with the quilt,” she said as evenly as she could, her face contorting again as nature worked to complete its course.
“Wh...what’s wrong now?!!” Liam stuttered in disbelief, his complexion growing even greyer. He edged away from her, lowering her cautiously to the floor. “Is there another baby? I thought it was over!”
With measured nonchalance, Hector tossed a sheet across Elizabeth’s hips, covering her from the waist down and sparing Liam any further distress over what was to come. “I find meself in need of a bucket of hot water, a bucket of cold water, a basin and a rag,” Hector interjected gruffly just as Liam’s emotions seemed about to get the better of him. “Yer ma has gone and made a right mess of our well-appointed quarters. Set the babe in his cot and off to the galley with ye.”
“But is she going to be all right?” he pleaded with his father, gingerly extricating the baby from Elizabeth’s arms. He stared fixedly down at his brother, seemingly torn between anger at the trouble the little being had caused and panic that he’d been entrusted with carrying such a delicate bundle.
“Rest easy. The worst o’ the storm has passed, Liam,” Hector reassured him, wincing only slightly as Elizabeth grabbed his hand and squeezed hard, letting him know in no uncertain terms that her rest was not yet at hand. “Now leave us – better she’d be served if’n ye bring forth the provisions I’ve asked fer rather than hang about and fret.”
As Liam departed to fulfill his assigned duties, there came a fresh surge of warm fluid between Elizabeth’s legs, leaving her feeling queasy and lightheaded as the afterbirth began to pass. Hector stroked her arm and gazed grimly down at her, helpless to do anything but comfort her as she rode out the final pangs of her ordeal.
At last it was over and Elizabeth collapsed back against the clammy floorboards. Exhausted, she was only vaguely aware when Liam returned and left again, and she let herself hover in numb quasi-consciousness as Hector stripped her bare and used a warm, damp cloth to clean her up. She might have slipped into the beckoning oblivion of sleep had the baby not decided to voice his hunger in the most strident and insistent way possible.
Still groggy, she struggled to sit up but found herself too feeble to perform even that simple task. The muscles of her belly throbbed as though she’d been pummelled in a tavern brawl and there wasn’t a shred of strength left in her limbs. Before she could ask for help, she was lifted up into her mate’s strong arms and she leaned into him, tucking her face in against his neck as he carried her towards their bunk.
“My hero,” she sighed as she sank naked into the feathery quilts, brushing his cheek with her fingertips as he bent over her. Some of the fine laugh lines erased by the waters of the Fountain had found their way back around Hector’s eyes, she noticed; the magical elixir might have turned back time but it could not permanently halt its advance. Of course, the events of the past several hours had been nearly as much of a strain upon him as on her, and that no doubt accounted far more than the passing of the years for the weariness she saw on his face.
He captured her hand and held it to his heart. “I’d not have survived losing ye, ‘Lizabeth,” he whispered hoarsely, going down on one knee at her bedside. His eyes shone with both underlying anguish and relief, and she grew sombre, suddenly understanding how perilously close she had come to dying before his very eyes.
“But you didn’t lose me,” she said, her voice distressingly weak. “I have fought man and sea to remain with you since you came for me, my beloved, and you’d be hard pressed to rid yourself of me so easily.”
The baby chose that moment to release yet another boisterous cry, his desire for sustenance overwhelming his parents’ need to express solemn sentiments. Hector rolled his eyes in resignation and reached into the small wooden cradle that Cotton had crafted in anticipation of the Pearl’s newest arrival. “Yer son will not be put off any longer,” he said with a feigned scowl, lifting the squirming infant from its tangle of blankets and holding him so as to look down crossly into the baby’s face. “Fine an’ ye can be havin’ her fer now, boy, but just ye be rememberin’ that I remain cap’n, and I shall claim me woman again whene’er it best suits me mood.”
Elizabeth smiled softly. “I fear that he’ll be captain of us all, at least for the time being,” she said, easing onto her side so that Hector could set the baby at her breast. She drew her little one close and rubbed her cheek against his feathery auburn hair as he sought out his first meal. After a few seconds, the persistent tug on her nipple brought forth an almost painful rush of milk and the baby’s eyes drifted closed as he blissfully suckled.
Hector arranged the covers on her shoulder, making sure that she’d not catch a chill. For a time, he stayed on knee at her side and kept a silent vigil as the baby fed, riveted at the scene before him. As weary as Elizabeth was, though, she needed the stimulation of conversation or she risked falling asleep before their son had taken his fill.
“How did you know?” she said, drawing his querying gaze back to her face. “What to do when the baby wouldn’t come, I mean. I can’t imagine that the captain of a pirate ship is required to play midwife very often.”
His lips twitched with a half-hearted smile and his eyes flickered briefly with good humour. “True enough that ye be the only expectin’ woman as has e’er been given leave to board me ship. Just so happens, though, t’was a skill I learned long afore fate led me to the sea.”
“Do tell,” she prompted, caressing the baby’s downy forearm as the child tangled his fingers in a stray lock of her hair. “What remarkable talents have you been hiding from me all these years?”
His grin widened and grew slightly more mischievous. “Not sure that’s a truth ye’ll be wantin’ to hear, lass.”
She narrowed her eyes at him with pretended suspicion. “Unless you are going to confess to personally delivering countless children you’ve fathered in ports throughout the Seven Seas, I’d very much like to hear how you learned to handle a woman in the throes of difficult labour.”
Although she had spoken in jest, she felt an irrational but undeniable twinge of jealousy as soon as the words were uttered. The possibility certainly existed that Hector had other children – he was far from inexperienced when he’d first bedded her and for all she knew, had taken many more lovers before the two of them had reunited. And while the past was past and there was nothing to be done about it, the notion that he might have shared this same intimate experience with some other woman – or women – upset her more than was reasonable.
The path her thoughts had followed must have shown in her expression, for he gathered her hand in his again and tenderly kissed her knuckles. “Don’t be lettin’ yer mind take ye to dark places, ‘Lizabeth. I’ve not aided in the birth of a babe, be it mine or any other man’s, before this night.”
“So then, how did you know what to do?” she pressed, somewhat assuaged by his assurances. It wasn’t possible to undo his history – it had to be enough that since he’d found her that first winter’s eve in Bridgeport, Hector had remained steadfast and true in every way. Yes, maybe there were offspring he was unaware of, youngsters who had grown up without knowing the identity of their sire. What Elizabeth was certain of, though, was that if he did know of any children, he’d not keep that fact from her. He was far too devoted to Liam, had gone through too much to reclaim him as his son, for her to believe that he’d willingly turn his back on any of his progeny, whatever the circumstances of their births.
“Goats,” he stated bluntly.
The single word was so incongruous that it instantly displaced her feelings of possessiveness. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, her brow knotting in puzzlement.
“Me mum raised goats. Come spring, not every birth would go as t’was meant to...and so I learned early on what to do when the kids came breech. ‘Course, them nannies didn’t bleat near so much as yerself when I came to their assistance.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help her sharp burst of tired laughter. The baby startled at the harsh sound but then quickly settled back to the business at hand as his mother soothingly patted his back. “So you’re telling me that I entrusted the safety and good health of myself and my child to...a goat herder?” she teased.
Hector leaned in close, his eyebrow arched sardonically. “Ye trusted a pirate with yer heart; some might have counselled against that as well.”
“I’ve yet to find cause to regret my choice.” She took advantage of his nearness to rise up and catch his lips in a brief but sweet kiss, and felt the contact all the way through to her heart. Each day they shared was a blessing beyond what they likely deserved; wasting time fretting about what might or might not have taken place in his distant past was foolish at best.
“Ye must rest,” he said, smoothing her damp hair back from her face as she settled back into place. “The lad has had enough fer now; take whate’er small respite the nipper will grant ye as ye may.”
Far too exhausted to protest, Elizabeth simply watched as he took the sated infant from her side and wrapped him unevenly in soft, new cotton blankets. Fatherly pride shone from Hector’s face and she decided then that everything she had gone through was worth it. Her eyelids grew heavier and she blinked slowly as Hector eased the child back into his cozy cradle. Before she let herself drift off, though, there was one last matter than needed settling.
“What shall we name our new son, my beloved?” she yawned, nestling deeper into her warm cocoon of bed sheets. “You had no say the first time around and so I leave the choice to you alone.”
He shrugged as if he’d never given it a moment’s thought. “Figured t’was a mother’s prerogative to pick one out. Just so long as we be steerin’ clear o’ ‘William,’ I’ll have no complaint.”
“You can do better than that,” she gently scolded. “A boy’s name follows him through his whole life...it shapes the kind of man he will ultimately become. Something strong, something that speaks to his heritage would be...”
“Alejandro,” blurted Hector before she could go on. “I’d name him after me da. A fisherman, he was. Taught me all I know of the sea afore he passed, stolen from us by a sudden storm when I’d seen naught but ten years.”
“Alejandro Barbossa,” Elizabeth sounded out thoughtfully. The name was almost lyrical in the way it tripped off the tongue, although she knew she’d likely end up calling the boy ‘Alex’ for short. She smiled broadly and nodded. “Yes, that would be almost perfect. But he needs something of his father as well as his grandfather. How about ‘Alejandro Hector Barbossa’?”
Hector nodded but didn’t answer, instead turning his silent regard back to their newly christened baby. He was attempting to seem blasé, but Elizabeth couldn’t miss the telltale glistening of his eyes or the tight line of his lips that betrayed his true feelings. Her big, brutish pirate, nearly reduced to tears...she could not help but love him all the more for it. She gave one last happy, drowsy sigh and finally allowed herself succumb to hard-earned slumber.
*~*~*~*~*
It was impossible to know whether it was the thunderous boom of cannon fire or Alejandro’s shriek of fear that first woke her, but Elizabeth came to sudden awareness with her heart racing and her ears ringing. The ship was pitching and yawing, every plank and beam creaking and cracking as loudly as if the vessel was about to break in two. Hastily yanking on her robe as she stumbled from her bed, Elizabeth just managed to snatch the baby from his cradle a moment before it would have overturned and thrown him to the floor.
As she clutched her bawling son tightly and tried to console him with soothing words, huge chunks of the hull suddenly exploded into the cabin with a massive roar as enemy artillery found its mark. She instinctively shielded the baby from the jagged splinters with her body as she raced on still wobbly legs and bare feet towards the door.
She could feel that her shoulder had been pierced with bits of wood and sensed wet warmth trickling down her back from the wounds. However, the pain itself barely registered against her growing panic as she shoved the heavy door open with her hip and all but fell out onto the deck.
The scene was one of utter chaos, with crewmen scurrying about the ship and howling in terror as though they were being pursued by Satan himself. Thick, black smoke obliterated the moon and stars, producing a hellish haze that choked both her and the baby, and kept her from calling out as she whirled around desperately in search of Hector and Liam.
In the midst of the bedlam, she could hear Hector’s voice booming from the helm, demanding calm and shouting orders to his men. Although the smoke almost entirely obscured the upper deck, she warily edged over to where she knew the larboard stairs lay. Heart pounding with fear for her family and the crew, she shuffled with one hand extended outwards in search of the railing.
Before Elizabeth could ascend a single step, the bo’sun tumbled down the stairs and landed at her feet. She watched in uncomprehending horror as a rope, moving with what seemed to be an eerie life of its own, slowly encircled the neck of the young man, each coil tightening like those of a boa constrictor. With his eyes bulging wildly and face turning purple, the bo’sun reached towards her pleadingly a heartbeat before he was suddenly yanked up into the air through the smoke into the rigging above. He was not taken so quickly, though, that she didn’t hear the snap of his spine before his twitching feet had disappeared entirely.
Both the shock of what she’d seen and her weakened condition left her faint, but she pressed on towards the beacon of Hector’s voice, determined to reach her lover and warn him before the same horrible fate could befall him. She had no idea what was happening but she understood that if she stopped it would mean certain death – for her and their newborn son.
“Hector!” she managed to gasp out, her eyes stinging and watering as she prayed he’d be able to hear her above the thunderous chaos. She loosened the baby’s blankets so that she could cover Alejandro’s face and save him from inhaling the endless swirls of acrid smoke that surrounded them.
“Lizabeth! What in the blue blazes are ye doin’ above deck?! Ye must take cover!” Whether drawn by the baby’s cries or her own desperate call, Hector finally emerged from the sooty grey miasma and caught her just as her legs failed.
“What’s happening?! I just saw the bo’sun...a line, moving of its own accord...it wrapped around his throat...he was...he’s dead!” she stammered as he crouched with her on the deck. “What could be doing this...where is Liam?!”
“Yer hurt!” he growled, his eyes widening as his hand came away from her back coated with her blood. “We must get ye back to our quarters, get someone to tend to ye...”
“There is no safety to be had there either,” she replied, hunching protectively over Alejandro as another sudden volley of cannon fire illuminated the surroundings and snapped the booms above them. “Who is attacking? Why aren’t we fighting back?!”
“Our adversary has yet to show his cowardly face,” he snapped, pulling her to her feet with an arm cinched tightly around her waist, “but there be dark magic at work. The Pearl won’t obey me...neither guns nor helm will respond. We’re helpless as ducks upon the water, waitin’ fer the killin’ blow.”
“Cap’n...Da!” Much to both Elizabeth’s relief and distress, Liam was limping up the stairs, heavily favouring his right leg. “Look to starboard! There’s a ship approaching! I’ve not seen the like of it before...”
All three of them peered into the night as a phantom breeze suddenly cleared the obscuring smoke away and they saw the foe that bore down on them out of the darkness.
“Gods of sea and sky preserve us,” Hector rasped, instinctively taking a step back. “T’is the Queen Anne’s Revenge.”
There was no need for moonlight, for the Revenge was alight with dozens of torches illuminating its every gruesome detail. The ragged, sooty sails, streaked with what looked to be dried blood, billowed in an icy gale that seemed to accompany the frigate and the skeletal spearman dangling from her bowsprit grinned with gleeful menace. Shadowy figures of men stood silently watching as the distance between them vanished, dark grey shapes against a fiery background. Worse yet were the twin scorched holes in the prow that seemed to stare at them like the cold dead eyes of a hungry shark. At least there was no sign of the devastating Greek fire simmering in the prow...not yet. There was only one man who sailed such a ship, a man no longer entirely of the mortal world.
“Blackbeard!” Elizabeth cried out in fear, shaking her head in shocked denial as the true nature of their peril sank in. “No! Why is he pursuing us? We’ve done nothing to offend, have never ventured anywhere near his territory...!”
Edward Teach was the most feared pirate on the seas, bar none...he joyfully doled out generous helpings of cruelty to the innocent and guilty alike, damning himself but growing stronger with each soul he delivered to Hades. There’d been many attempts to cut him down but still he sailed, defying the very laws of nature and death itself. Any buccaneer with a lick of sense steered far clear of him and prayed fervently every night to avoid exactly what was about to be visited upon the Black Pearl and her crew.
“The ‘why’ of it don’t matter! All we need know is that he takes no prisoners! Liam, get yer ma and brother to the long boat now; row ‘em ashore b’fore the enemy boards and lay waste to the lot of ust!” Hector essentially threw Elizabeth into Liam’s arms and strode to the balustrade overlooking the main deck. “Load yer pistols an’ open fire!” he bellowed to his men, straining to be heard above the incessant pepper of cannon fire from the Revenge. “Draw yer swords and hack their limbs from their bodies if they dare set foot upon the Pearl! I’ll not see me ship fall into the hands of this poxy, cur-buggerin’ fiend!”
Liam firmly took hold of Elizabeth’s free hand and attempted to steer her down the stairs to the main deck, but she stubbornly set her feet and refused to budge. “No! I’m not leaving your father! Take Alejandro and make your way to land. Watch over him…”
As she spoke, her eldest son’s eyes widened in shock and he shook his head, his deep auburn waves of hair catching the firelight from the Revenge’s torches. “I can’t! The baby needs you!”
Before she could argue further, Hector stepped up behind her and scooped her up. “Ye force me to be blunt, ‘Lizabeth – ye will be naught but a hindrance to me if’n ye remain aboard,” he snarled as he hurried down the stairs with his mate and new baby in his arms. Liam followed as quickly as his injured leg would allow. “Ye can’t fight, not like this, and will prove a fatal distraction to me in the end. Should ye stay, we’ll all perish this night.”
The pain in Elizabeth’s shoulder flared as Hector deposited her unceremoniously into the long boat, but it was the pain at leaving him that caused her the most distress. “I don’t…I can’t…” she rasped, her throat constricting and her heart breaking. Tears sprang from her eyes as she reached out to Hector, snagging his sleeve before he could draw back, knowing she had to let him go but incapable of making herself do so.
“Ye must,” he answered firmly, his tone softening at her expression. As Liam clambered into the boat and took a seat across from her, Hector cradled Elizabeth’s face in his hands and kissed her softly. “I swear by all that be holy that I shall find ye again. Until that day, protect all that I hold most precious and stay safe until I return to ye, me love.”
He pulled himself free of Elizabeth’s grasp and shrugged off his heavy coat, draping it over her shoulders to provide some protection from the night air. From his belt, he tore a small satchel of coins and tucked them deep into the coat pocket. “The gold will do ye fer now, but ye know as well as I where we’ve stashed a bit more shine. Ye’ll not do without.”
“Da! The pulleys won’t let the rope through!” Liam cried as he jerked on the lines that kept the gig tethered to the Pearl. “Whatever spell has been cast has hold of them, too!”
“Master Barbossa, ‘tis up to ye to keep yer ma and yer brother safe from all harm in me absence. Understood?” Hector demanded as he drew his cutlass. Liam nodded, tears shining in his eyes as he gazed back at his father.
“Please,” Elizabeth begged, knowing even as she did so that it was futile. “Please come with us.”
Hector disregarded her mournful request – as she knew he would. “Brace yerselves fer the drop and row quick as ye can, boy!” With two mighty swings, he severed the thick lines, and the long boat lurched and then dropped. Elizabeth curled herself protectively around Alejandro as they fell through space, her breath abruptly knocked from her lungs when they hit the wickedly rough waves beside the Pearl.
“Ma…are you all right?” Liam gasped, taking up the oars.
Elizabeth just winced and nodded as she fought for air. “Row, Liam,” she finally squeezed out, lifting her gaze to the deck of their ship. Though the gloom and smoke, Hector’s dark silhouette was visible for only a moment before he turned away to defend his ship and his crew against an unbeatable foe.
“Hector…” she whispered despondently, burying her tear-streaked face against the warm, wriggling bundle cradled to her breast as they left her lover and his men to their fate.
*~*~*~*
FIN
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In the Hollow of the Heart