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Saints and Sinners	By : JennyPugh Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 6291 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Usual disclaimers
This is an extra long chapter as there was nowhere
I could break it up!
With thanks to Kat for editing
�
Chapter Nineteen

�Bloody hell, Jack!� Joshamee Gibbs exclaimed when
Jack, Celia and the two crewmen finally returned to the Black Pearl some four hours later, just past *six bells of the
first watch. �Where in the blazes have
you been?�
�Sampling th�fine delights of a very nice French
tavern,� Jack slurred, weaving his way to the portly man and jabbing him in the
chest. �An� very fine delights they
were too, eh, Grabrl� Greb.. Gerbil�
wassisname?�
�Very, very, fine delights,� Gabriel Jennings
agreed, leaning heavily on Oliver Fernan with a silly grin on his face.
�For pity�s sake!
You could have been accosted the state you�re in!� the quartermaster
admonished. �What about Celia? Anything could have happened to her and you
lot would have been too drunk to do anything!�
�Ah, but Gibbs�� Jack started, his hands doing a
merry dance before him. �She�s
th�drunkest of us all! Hmmm,� he mused,
putting a finger to his lips at the second attempt. �Drunkest� is that even a word, Mister Deane?�
�Dunno, Cap�n,� the young man replied, frowning as
if deep in thought. �But if it ain�t,
yer�ve just invented a word!�
�So I have!� Jack grinned, his face lighting up in
delight. �Drunkest� what a fine word
that is, don�t you agree, Miss Hammond.�
�Hmm? Oh,
yes. A very fine word,� Celia nodded,
tottering along the deck. �Oh dear, I
feel quite��
�Over th�side!� Jack instructed, wincing as she
threw up over the deck. �Too late��
�I�ll see ter it,� Oliver offered, carefully
putting his crewmate against the main mast for support before hurrying off to
fetch a swab and bucket, although what he really wanted to do was look after
Celia. But he knew better than to offer
- drunk or not, his captain would remember it and deal with him as he saw fit
once he was sober enough to do so.
�Come on, luv,� Jack growled, swaying over to her
and winding an arm around her waist.
�Let�s get yer in th�cabin.�
�Is that wise?� Joshamee enquired. �She might be�� he sighed, rolling his eyes
as Celia vomitted once more. �Sick
again�� he finished with a rueful shrug.
�Perhaps yer right, Gibbs,� Jack mused. �We�ll stay here a while �til you�ve
recovered,� he told Celia, sitting on the deck with a thud and pulling her down
to join him.
�But I don�t want to,� she pouted, resting her head
on his shoulder. �I want to go to
sleep��
�An� yer shall,� Jack assured her, still weaving
even though he was sitting down. �Just
not until yer�ve brought up whatever it is yer goin� ter bring up, savvy?�
�Oh, Oliver,� Celia beamed as the Irishman
re-appeared. �You should have come with
us! We had brandy and it was so-o-o-o��
�Thank gawd yer went that way an� not this,� Jack
remarked as she turned her head to the side and was sick once more.
�Did you have
to let her get into this state?� Joshamee sighed, frowning at his captain.
�Ah�� Jack winced, having the good grace to look
guilty. �We got talkin� ter this man
who remembered Goodluck an� I guess I lost track of how much we were drinkin� -
especially her. She�s goin� ter hate me in th�mornin�.�
�With good reason.
Get those two below,� the quartermaster ordered Noah and Myles, nodding
at the two drunken crewmen sliding down the main mast in a stupor. �And I think perhaps you two had better get
to bed as well.� He reached down and
gave his captain a hand to his feet and hauled Celia up with Oliver�s help.
�I�ll
take her, thank you, Mister Fernan,� Jack snapped, pushing him out of the way
and taking Celia�s hand possesively, leading her to his cabin. �G�night, Gibbs. You have command��
�I did anyway,� the older man muttered as the cabin
door shut in his face. �I�d like to see
you take command in that state.�
�Ah, an� yer�ve never got in that state?� Oliver grinned.
�Brandy�s a killer ter get over from what I hear,� he chuckled. �I�m glad I�ve got shore leave in
th�mornin�.�
�Bloody hell,� Joshamee chortled. �So am I��
�
�Bloody hell! I�m never drinkin� brandy again,� Jack muttered as he prised his
eyes open and clutched his face in his hands as the daylight streaming through
the cabin windows made his head pound even more, which he had not thought
possible.
�It�s the brandy?� Celia gasped, mirroring his actions
and covering her face. �I feel like
I�ve been� I don�t know.�
�Keelhauled,� Jack stated. �That�s what I feel like I�ve been. �Dragged along th�bottom of th�ship from
first bell ter last bell� damnation!� he swore.
�Please
can I stay here today?� she begged. �I
can�t get up - I�d never make it to the head, let alone the main cabin.�
�But Monsieur Le Verde told us that Goodluck lived
here with his wife an� child,� Jack argued, starting to remember what the
Frenchman had told them the previous evening.
�We have ter find out where an� see what that brings.�
�Can�t it wait?� Celia pleaded. �Until tomorrow, at least. Saint Georges isn�t going anywhere for the
next day or so.�
�Ah, but I don�t know how much we let slip last
night,� he worried, pulling a face.
�Damn! Brandy has never affected
me like that before. We have ter make a
move today, just in case.�
�Oh, no,� she groaned, throwing her hands up in
despair and wincing as the sunlight hurt her eyes once more. �Curse you, Jack Sparrow, for allowing me to
drink at all, let alone something that would make me feel like this!�
�Sorry, luv,� Jack apologised. �I swear I won�t do it again.�
�You had better not,� she threatened. �I�ll make your life a living hell if you
do.�
�My life is already
a livin� hell,� he grumbled, feeling willing to trade every penny of his
treasure to make the pain go away.
�Good,� she muttered sarcastically. �I only wish I could give you my pain as
well��
�You�d kill me,� Jack pouted. �You wouldn�t want my death on yer
conscience, would you?�
�Right now�?� Celia sniped.
�Cap�n?
I�ve brought yer somethin� ter make yer feel better,� Tobias Pellew
called. �Can I come in?�
�Of course yer can!� Jack urged. �Anythin� ter make me feel somethin� like
human again.�
�It�s an old receipe that I got off me
gran�father,� the cook grinned as he entered the side cabin, arching an eyebrow
at the state the couple lying on the bunk were in. �It works wonders��
�I bloody well hope so,� Jack muttered, taking a
beaker from Toby and sniffing the contents.
�Don�t ask�� Toby chuckled, seeing the question
form on Jack�s lips. �Might be best if
yer don�t know.�
�Ah� is it likely ter poison us?�
�No,� the burly man answered, shaking his
head. �Just drink it in one gulp.�
�I-I�m not sure I will,� Celia fretted, looking at
the beaker as if it were alive. �I�ll
recover in time.�
�Come on, we�ll drink it together, eh?� Jack
chivvied, taking the other beaker and handing it to her. He sat up gingerly, closing his eyes at the
pounding pain reverberating through his skull and beckoned Celia to sit,
helping her with his free hand.
�Oh�� she groaned, turning even paler than she
already was.
�One� two� you�ve got ter drink it as well� three!�
Both Jack and Celia tipped their respective beakers
up and downed the contents in one go, both looking horrified at Tobias as the
liquid poured down their throats.
�Jesus, man!� Jack gasped, once he caught his
breath. �What in th�name of all that is
good, is that?�
�Like I said, Cap�n - best yer don�t know,� he
chuckled, taking the beakers off them.
�Yer�ll feel better before long.�
�I doubt very much that I could feel any worse,�
Celia moaned, sinking back against the pillows that she and Jack had shared
during their drunken slumber.
�Well it�s all right fer you, missy,� Jack
sniped. �But I�ve got a ship ter run
an� men ter organise.� He clambered
from the bunk, clutching the side as he swayed violently, then went to find his
boots before realising he still had them on.
�Toby, ask around ter see who else can speak French - even if it�s only
a few words.�
�Aye, Cap�n,� the cook nodded. �Send them in ter you?�
�I�ll be on deck, I need some air. In fact, that wouldn�t do you any harm,
young lady.�
�Must I?� Celia groaned. �Oh! This lovely
dress! It�s ruined!� She shot off the bunk faster than was wise
and grabbed hold of Jack as the cabin spun ferociously.

�It isn�t ruined,� Jack smiled, putting his arm
around her waist and eyeing the few creases in the dress. �I don�t think either of us moved last night
- in fact, it�s a miracle we made it ter th�bunk at all.�
�Aye,� Toby grinned from by the cabin door. �I half expected ter find yer both on
th�deck!�
�I�ll change,� Celia said once the cook had
gone. �Could you unlace me?�
�You know it�s a pleasure,� Jack chuckled wryly as
he untied the knot and losened the dress, risking a peek down the back. �That stuff�s workin� already,� he mused as
the pounding in his head seemed to lessen.
�Yes, it is,� she agreed, turning around and looking
at him suspiciously, wondering if he had been sneaking a look. �I�ll wear my yellow dress, I think.� She walked carefully into the main cabin to
the trunk where her effects were stored, and bent down, holding her head with
one hand whilst pulling a pale yellow, sleeveless cotton dress that Scarlett
had given her, with her other hand, carrying it back to the side cabin and
sighing as she found Jack leaning on the edge of the bunk with his arms folded
and making no move to go anywhere. �If
you don�t mind�?� she hinted.
�Seen it all before,� Jack shrugged. �B�sides, yer not goin� ter be naked again,
are you?�
�How about respecting my privacy?� she
snapped, wincing as the sound of her voice sent a sharp pain stabbing through
it.
�Privacy respected,� he laughed, planting a kiss on
her bare shoulder as he went past.
�We�ll have some breakfast then head into town, savvy?�
�Food?� she groaned. �No��
�Yer said that last
time you got drunk.�
�You mean last time you got me drunk,� Celia reminded him as she changed from the red silk
dress to the yellow cotton one and laying the finer one on the bunk, smoothing
it down. �I still don�t think I can
face food, though.� She went to the
private head and hesitantly picked up her rosary beads, chewing her lip as she
put them around her neck, promising herself she would pray for forgiveness
later.
�All right.
Maybe get somethin� in town, eh?�
�Were you serious about having to leave quickly?�
�Aye. I
can�t take th�risk that my tongue was loosened last night. Or Gabriel or Elliot�s fer that matter.�
�So won�t it be dangerous staying?�
�Probably,� Jack mused, sounding decidedly
unconcerned. �But we�ll be all right,�
he assured her. �After all, this is
Captain Jack Sparrow of th�infamous Black
Pearl we�re on about here.�
�It�s the infamy that worries me,� Celia remarked
as she joined him in the main cabin.
�Let�s go an� take th�air while we wait fer th�men
ter be ready, eh?�
�You make it sound like we�re going for a stroll in
the park!� she chuckled, slipping her hand in the crook of his arm and allowing
him to lead her from the cabin.
�We shall take a stroll of th�decks, instead,� Jack
announced, holding the door for her and bowing elaborately as she passed him.
�Mornin� Miss Celia, Cap�n,� Gabriel smiled,
shielding his eyes from the sun and looking decidedly worse for wear. �Recovered yet?�
�I don�t think I�ll recover fer th�rest of th�day,�
Jack groaned with a grin. �Did Toby
give yer some of his vile concoction?�
�No!� Gabriel shuddered. �I�ve had it before, I ain�t takin� it ever again. Have yer seen Elliot yet?�
�No, why?� Jack frowned, hoping that they had not
misplaced the young crewman the previous night. He couldn�t remember whether they had all returned together or
not.
�Yer�d never believe th�little runt drunk more than
th�rest of us last night! Sober as a bleedin�
judge! Pardon my language, Miss,� he
apologised, bowing his head.
�Sober? How
on earth can he be sober?� Celia gasped, ignoring the disrespect. �That is so unfair!�
�Welcome ter real life, luv,� Jack chuckled wryly
as he took her arm once more and walked towards the bow, breathing in the sea
air in an effort to clear his head.
�
�Right, yer know what ter do, lads,� Jack announced
to the group of crewmen standing on the dockside. �Go ter where Monsieur Le Verde said Goodluck lived an� search
th�house - but no-one is ter be hurt, savvy?�
�Aye,� the crew chorused as they headed off in the
direction that their captain had said the privateer�s house had been.
�How can you remember everything that was
said last night - the amount you drunk?�
Celia pondered as she slipped her arm in Jack�s and allowed him to lead
her down the street. The Frenchman they
had been speaking to in the tavern the previous night, had told them that he
believed Goodluck�s wife and child were buried in the churchyard and she, Jack,
Gabriel, Thomas Frazer and Josiah Phelps were heading to the large church on
the outskirts of town, hoping to pick up some clue. Some clue as to what, Celia had no idea, but the men seemed to
trust their captain so she decided to reserve judgement.
�One of my many talents,� Jack grinned. �Speak French now,� he warned as he spotted
a number of people going about their business, and the group of them walked in
near silence until they reached the churchyard on the edge of town. �Here it is,� Jack beamed as he pushed open
the gate. �Th�church of Saint George,
or Georges, being as we�re in French territory.�
Celia picked up the hem of her dress and stepped on
to the muddy path, wishing she could go barefoot. At least her feet would be easier to clean than her shoes - the
only shoes she owned. �What do we look
for?� she asked, turning to wait for Jack to join her.
�A grave with th�name Goodluck would be a start,�
he pondered, nodding to him men to spread out and look. He had chosen those able to read and had
made sure they could recognise the name Goodluck.
�And if there isn�t one?�
�Monsieur Le Verde says there is, so��
Shall I go inside the church and look for a crypt?�
�Good idea,� Jack nodded, patting her backside as
she passed him and looking as innocent as he could when she glared back at him.
Celia opened the door to the church and bent to
take her shoes off, leaving them outside in the porch. She padded barefot along the cold stone
floor, crossing herself as she reached the aisle. She sat on a pew and bent her head in prayer, working her rosary
beads as she did. �I am changing,� she thought sadly.
�How can I stop myself from
changing? How can I resist the advances of Jack when he�s so� irresistable!�
�Vous b�nir, mon enfant,� a voice behind her
intoned, and Celia jumped to her feet.
(bless you, my child)
�Merci, le P�re,� she replied, bobbing a
curtsy to him. (thank you, father)
�Etes-vous ici pour l'aveu ?� he enquired, pressing
the tips of his fingers together. (are you here for confession?)
�Non!� Celia exclaimed, not wanting to have to face
confessing all of her sins. �I am here
to find a tomb,� she told him in slow French, hoping that he would not become
suspicious of her.
�Ah,� the priest nodded. �What is the name?� he asked her in a heavy accent.
�Goodluck,� she smiled hopefully.
�Je sais sais ce nom. Peut-�tre essayer les rapports.� (I do not know this name. Perhaps try the records).
Celia sighed as she stuggled to
understand him, wishing that one of the men who could speak French were there
with her.
�Here,� the priest smiled, taking her arm and
leading her to a room to the side of the pulpit. He sat her down at a small table and took a book from a chest of
drawers, placing it in front of him before retreating with a nod of the head.
�Oh,� she smiled brightly as she realised what it
was. �Merci.� She eagerly opened the book and leafed through the pages, going
back many years as Jack had told her that Geoffrey Goodluck had last been seen
alive at least twenty years ago.
�Celia?�
�In here, Jack,� she called. �The priest has let me look through the
records,� she told him as he looked around the door at her. �I take it you have had no luck outside?�
�Not so far,� the pirate sighed, going over to
where she sat and peered at the book, his beard braids tickling her
shoulder. �Have they listed th�pauper�s
graves?�
�I don�t know,� Celia frowned. �Where would it be?�
�Probably at th�back,� he replied acerbically. �So as not ter sully th�well ter do�s��
�Jack��
she chided, frowning at him. �That�s
not very nice.�
�Th�church ain�t very nice, in my experience,� he
snorted. �Not matter what
denomination.� He reached over and
turned to the back of the book, harrumphing in triumph as they both saw a list
of names on the back page. �There!� he
exclaimed, jabbing a finger on the page.
�Rebecca Goodluck! Come
on.� Jack grabbed Celia�s hand and
pulled her from the chair, all but running back down the aisle.
�Hold on! I
need my shoes!� she cried as he was about to drag her barefoot down the dirty
path. She leaned against the doorway of
the porch and slipped her shoes back on, lifting the hem of her dress as she
joined Jack on the path.
�Find th�pauper�s graveyard,� Jack ordered. �Rebecca Goodluck is buried there.�
�It must be down here, then,� Thomas Frazer
observed, indicating a rather overgrown part of the cemetery which was down a
slope. He lead his captain, Celia and
crewmates to where he had pointed out and pushed a rickety gate open,
flattening grass as he did. �They must
be doin� better fer themselves, nowadays,� he remarked in his Scottish
lilt. �There ain�t been a burial here
fer many a year.�
�Unless they used up all th�space an� bury them
elsewhere,� Jack remarked acerbically.
�That�s more like it,� Gabriel Jennings nodded as
he started searching for the grave of Rebecca Goodluck.
�Mind where you�re puttin� yer feet,� Jack
instructed Celia as she went to join the men.
�You never know what�s hidden in th�undergrowth an� your shoes aren�t as
protective as our boots, savvy?�
�I will,� she promised, stepping carefully on to
the vegitation and scanning the graves nearest to her before moving on.
�Here!� Josiah Phelps called, waving for everyone
to join him, which they did as quickly as they could.
�Now there�s a strange thing,� Jack mused, frowning
and stroking his chin as they looked at the grave. �It�s a bit posh fer a pauper�s grave��
�Aye, that it is,� Frazer agreed.
�Oh!� Celia stated, running a finger along the
elaborate carving at the top and tracing a line down to the name of the woman
buried there.
�Here lies
Rebecca Goodluck
Beloved
wife of Geoffrey and mother to Ann
Died��
Celia squatted down and pulled away the weeds and
grasses that were obscuring the rest of the stone, frowning as she noticed the
figure of a rotund woman holding a pot, with the image of a dragon at her feet,
engraved at the foot of the stone.
�What th�hell�s that all about?� Gabriel wondered,
looking at his companions. �Any ideas?�
�No�� Celia mused uncertainly, trying to figure why
it seemed familiar.
�No?� Jack pressed. �You don�t sound very certain, luv.�
�There�s something about that carving� something I
feel I should know,� she sighed, accepting Jack�s hand up.
�I think th�best course of action is ter bring some
parchment an� do a rubbin� of th�picture,� the pirate captain stated. �That way no-one will forget what it looks
like an� someone onboard might be able ter make head or tail of what it means.�
�Actually,� Thomas interjected. �I can draw a little, Cap�n. If ye can perhaps buy some parchment an�
some charcoal in town, I can come back an� draw it fer ye?�
�You can draw well enough ter do a good likeness of
that?� Jack demanded.
�He can draw well enough ter do a good likeness of
me,� Josiah chuckled. �How d�yer think
he�s got so much money, Cap�n? He draws
pictures an� sells �em ter th�crew.�
�Well, well,� Jack mused, looking in a new light at
his master gunner. �There is, or was actually somethin� goin� on on my
ship that I didn�t know about��
�Yer don�t mind, do yer, cap�n?� Frazer
fretted. �I didn�t think there�d be
harm in it.�
�No harm at all,� Jack chuckled. �I just prided myself on knowin� everythin�,
an� now it seems I don�t.�
�Pride cometh before a fall,� Celia remarked, an
innocent expression on her face.
�An� a tanned backside comes after being cheeky ter
your captain,� he warned with a grin.
�Let�s head back ter town an� purchase what Mister Frazer needs, then he
can head back here an� we can go back ter th�comfort of th�ship.�
�We�ll go an� find th�others, shall we,
Cap�n? Tell �em what we�ve found, an�
see if they�ve come up with somethin�, like?� Gabriel suggested. �An� then sample th�fine delights of this
town...� he grinned, winking laciviously.
�Aye, good idea,� Jack nodded, offering Celia his
arm as they and Thomas Frazer headed towards the town once more, whilst the
other two men went in the other direction.
�Fine delights?� Celia frowned, missing the look
that the two men gave each other behind her back.
�Ah� y�see, luv. There�s this famous, or infamous, brothel in
town, an� that�s where th�men are goin� after they have searched Goodluck�s old
house,� Jack explained, rolling his eyes at his master gunner in amusement,
knowing that the young woman would be uncomfortable with the subject. He hoped that she would realise that Oliver
was amongst them and that it would maybe dampen whatever feelings she might
have for the Irishman, even though he doubted very much that his helmsman would
actually join his crewmates at the brothel.
�Oh. I
see.� Celia walked on in silence,
wondering what it would be like to have men every day and night, and whether
the whores found it as pleasurable as she found rubbing herself had been. She was broken from her reverie by Jack
changing direction and tugging her towards a gentleman and she wondered what he
was up to now.
�Excuse me,� Jack enquired in perfect French. �Could you tell me where I might purchase some
parchment or paper?� He listened
intently as the man gave him directions, gesticulating and pointing until Jack
nodded and clasped his hands together, bowing his head. �Merci,� he smiled, leading his companions
down a lane. �There�s a paper mill by
th�river,� he grinned.
�An� here�s a lump of coal that will do fer drawin�
with,� Thomas observed, scooping down to pick up a small lump from where
someone had thrown out their old embers.
�We�re all set up, or we will be once I�ve brought
some paper. Ah! There it is.� The trio crossed over a small bridge and walked towards the mill,
stopping as a woman approached. She led
them into a small outbuilding when Jack had told her what he wanted and
beckoned them to wait while she disappeared through a door which led to the
mill itself.
�Bonjour, Monsieur,� a man greeted them. �Madame,� he nodded at Celia, not bothering
to greet Thomas who was in working clothes and therefore obviously lower class
and not worth his attention. �I believe
you require some paper?� he enquired in his native tongue. �How much and of what quality?�
�I wish to purchase some writing paper and some
coarser paper for drawing, please,� Jack smiled.
�Of course,� the mill owner replied, bowing his
head and going back to the mill, returning a few minutes later with a number of
sheets of both sorts of paper. �How
much of each?�
�I�ll take th�lot,� Jack smiled, careful not to
show his gold teeth and give himself away as something other than a gentleman.
�Oh,� the man beamed, delighted at such a good
sale. �That will be twenty pistole.�
Jack nodded and handed the money over from a
leather pouch strung around his waist, handing one sheet of the coarser paper
to his gunner and waiting whilst the mill owner wrapped the remainder up to
protect it and handed it to him. �I�ll
take the rest back on board for you,� he told Thomas in French.
�For me?� Thomas exclaimed, also in French. �Merci, Capitaine!�
�So� have you worked out what it was about that
carvin,?� Jack enquired as he and Celia strolled back down the lane and towards
the town while Thomas headed back towards the churchyard, cutting across a
meadow to save having to walk the long way around via the lane.
�No�� Celia puzzled, pulling a face. �I feel I know it, or at least, should know it.�
�Don�t
think about it an� it�ll come ter you,� Jack smiled, covering her hand, nestled
in the crook of his arm, with his and watching her from the corner of his
eye. He was still torn as to whether to
say anything about having caught her the previous day as she pleasured herself,
wanting to tease or even press her into giving into his charms, but decided to
continue biding his time. He wanted
Celia more than any woman since he had left Lymington all these years before,
when he had been forced to do so by the husband of the woman he loved. �Isabel��
he thought to himself, smiling briefly as he remembered her.
Celia glanced at Jack, wondering why he had such a
faraway look in his eyes and felt a slight pang of jealousy. �What
on earth do I have to feel jealous about?� she pondered with a frown. �Because
people only look like that when they�re thinking of someone they care about��
a voice sniped inside her head. �And you would rather it were you he was
daydreaming about�?� Celia baulked,
smiling sheepishly at Jack who was looking at her curiously. �I tripped over a stone,� she evaded,
shrugging her shoulders. �See, you�re happy now you have his attention
once more�� She smiled at her
companion again then set her eyes dead ahead, trying in vain to dislodge the
thoughts running through her head, not helped by Jack absently stroking her
hand as they walked.
�Jack�� she began, trying a different tack to take
her mind off how he was making her feel.
�What if it�s nothing? What if
the gravestone is just that - a gravestone?�
�Why have a gravestone like that in a pauper�s
yard?� he argued, shrugging his shoulders.
�Doesn�t make sense.�
�You say he was a privateer - that is like a
licensed pirate, yes?�
�Aye,� Jack replied, looking at her with his head
cocked to one side, wondering what she was gettin at.
�Maybe she died whilst he was away and rather than have her re-buried in the posher cemetary, he
had the stone placed on where she was buried?�
�Possibly,� he mused, stroking his braids
thoughtfully. �But it doesn�t explain
th�bible and th�scrap of paper, does it?�
�With all due respect,� Celia sighed, �that is a
very, very long shot.�
�So why put down a bearing an� hide it in th�
spine? A bearin� that happened ter lead
to where his wife an� child lived?� Jack urged. �I just know there is
somethin� to all of this - it might not be treasure, but I have ter find out what.�
�Why? What
is so important?�
�If it
does lead ter his treasure, an� I know it�s a very big if - I could easily
double my wealth,� he told her with a satisfied grin.
�If the
rumours of his treasure are true,� she pointed out. �He could have pretended he was richer than he was, or it could
easily have already been found.�
�Young lady,� Jack sighed, throwing both hands up
in the air. �Would yer please stop puttin� a damper on
things? I want there ter be treasure
an� so there will be, savvy?�
�If there isn�t?
Won�t the crew be angry?�
Jack shrugged once more, taking her hand in his as
they continued to walk towards the town.
�They know that some yer win, some yer lose. Now can you please concentrate on workin� out what that figure
means, eh?�
�Probably nothing��
�So why put some strange carving on her
headstone? It must mean something.�
�Maybe it does - did, to them,� Celia reasoned.
�You are determined ter talk me out of this, aren�t
you?�
�No� yes,� she admitted with a rueful smile. �It just seems so� I don�t know. Silly��
�Come an� let�s sit down,� Jack smiled, guiding her
towards a low wall surrounding a field.
�I have a little story ter tell you.�
�What?� the young woman enquired as Jack placed the
parcel of paper he was carrying on the wall,
picked her up and placed her on top of the wall before hoisting himself
up and sitting next to her.
�Y�see this�� Jack fished about in his coat pocket
and brought out a compass which he opened and showed her. �You notice somethin� strange about it?�
�No,� Celia frowned, looking closely at it as he
turned it this way and that.
�It doesn�t point north,� the pirate captain
informed her. �Now any sailor worth his
salt�d take one look at it and throw it away, but I had a feelin� about it -
felt it would lead me ter somethin�.�
�And did it?� she sighed, feeling he was about to
tell her that he had found the most fabulous wealth imaginable.
�You should know better than ter ask,� Jack
chuckled wryly. �It leads ter th�Isla
de Muerta.�
�Oh!� Celia gasped, knowing about the dread isle
from what Jack had told her about Barbossa and his crew mutinying against him. �How did you come across it?�
�Strangest thing,� he mused, thinking back nigh on
fifteen years. �Everyone had heard
about th�fabled Isla de Muerta an� the cursed treasure of Cortez, but no-one actually believed it. Then we were
careenin� th�ship on a tiny island off th�coast of Venezula an� we came across
a tribe of natives who were governed by a white man. We bartered a few things an� shared some grog, but as we were
about ter leave, he took me ter one side an� said I had th�gift an� gave me this, tellin� me it led ter th�dread isle.�
�What gift?� Celia interrupted.
�My intuition,� Jack grinned, spreading his hands
out and circling his wrists.
�Oh yes, your infamous
intuition.�
�Now he told me that this would guide me there,
that I had ter let it guide me, but we were not ter take a
single coin from Cortez�s chest or we would be cursed.�
�So where did he get it from?�
�He wouldn�t say, only that he�d been there with
his crew an� taken some of the coins.
Th� crew turned on themselves, there was a riot on th�ship an� it burned
an� sank, - he just managed ter
escape an� then collected up th�coins, returnin� them ter th�island before
takin� up life here.�
�Did you believe him?� Celia asked, too fascinated
by the story to notice Jack�s arm snaking its way around her waist.
�I wasn�t sure - Barbossa reckoned it was just
th�drink talkin�, that is was a tall tale.
He soon found out different,� Jack mused, a faraway look in his
eyes.
�So how did Barbossa find his way there?�
�I�d already worked out th�bearings,� Jack
sighed. �As with all compasses, it
gives a different bearin� in different places but because it doesn�t point
north, I had ter� listen to it, if
you like - let th�compass tell me th�bearin�, an� I finally worked out where
th�Isla de Muerta was.� He shook
himself, jumping down from the wall.
�Well, you just figure out that carving, young lady, an� we�ll see if my
intuition is right or not, shall we? If
not, I�ll give myself ter you!� he
winked, helping her down and holding onto her, drawing her in closer until they
were inches apart.
�I-I don�t think so,� Celia squeaked, trying to
pull away from both his grasp and his gaze.
�Jack! We�re in public!�
�Will you kiss me in private then?� he murmured,
his voice low and husky. �An� perhaps
somethin� else�?�
�Y-you k-know the answer to that,� she whispered
with little conviction.
�Which one, th�kissin� or th�somethin� else?�
�B-both,� Celia stammered. �People are looking at us!� she hissed,
glancing over his shoulder as two elderly women passed by, looking aghast at
them.
�They�re French,� Jack shrugged. �Far more easy goin� about things like
this.�
�Well I�m not and I�m not!� she declared, shoving
him in the chest and stomping down the lane, her face burning and her heart
nearly hammering its way out of her chest.
�French!� Jack shushed, flapping his hands at her
as he quickly followed. �Speak French!�
�Why don�t you?� she sniped, shrugging his hand
from her shoulder as he reached her.
�For heaven�s sake! You�ll get us all hanged!� Jack snapped in French. �Yes, young lady, even you!� He took her by the arm and marched her down
the street, intent on heading back to the ship, but Celia stopped in her
tracks, causing Jack to almost overbalance.
�What now?� he sighed, rolling his eyes.
�That figure� I�m sure it�s a saint.�
�A saint�?� Jack echoed, arching a doubtful
eyebrow. �A housewife that slays
dragons!� he teased with a sarcastic grin.
�Yes!� Celia cried out. �Saint Martha! Goodness
knows, I prayed enough to her when I was scrubbing the convent floor in the
depths of winter. You�re a genuis!�
Both their heads shot around at the sound
of pistol fire from the other side of town and Jack took her arm once more,
propelling her forward. �Time ter go, I
think��
�Why?� Celia enquired, looking sideways at
him. �Is there trouble?�
Jack looked acerbically at her, shaking his head at
her innocence. �Trouble usually follows
shots being fired, yes,� he confirmed.
�An� when we�re in town, it�s usually us that�s either in trouble
or causin� it� or both!�
�Why doesn�t that surprise me?�
�Looks like they�ve been sussed,� he sighed
regretfully. �Bang goes tonight�s
little raid��
�You weren�t?� Celia gasped, stopping at looking at
Jack with a horrified expression.
�Of course we were,� he laughed, taking her arm and
pulling her along the raoad once more.
�No point in comin� all this way without some recompense.�
�I can�t believe you. The sooner I work my debt off, the better!� she snapped, storming
away from Jack and not seeing his frown and hurt glance.
�We�re pirates, in case yer hadn�t noticed, young
lady. How else do you expect us ter
eat?�
�I�ll bet you have enough treasure stashed away to
live on for the rest of your lives,� Celia hissed angrily. �So don�t tell me you need more.�
�Bugger!� Jack swore, running and grabbing Celia�s
arm as he caught up with her. �Run!�
�Wha�?� She
shrieked as a shot whizzed close by, throwing up dirt to the side of her and
she hoisted her skirts up and ran, fear giving speed to her legs and she easily
kept pace with Jack.
�Deane! Get
Celia in th�boat an� row, savvy?� Jack shouted as they approached the
docks. �Draw yer pistol, as well��
Elliot Deane did as his captain bid, taking out a
French solider who had almost caught up with his quarry, then tucked the spent
weapon into the waist of his breeches and jumped into the boat, reaching up to
help Celia in once they reached him.
�Keep her safe,� Jack ordered, turning to fire his
own pistol then throwing the useless gun to one side and drawing his sword,
running it through one man and hitting another over the head with the hilt.
�Captain!�
Gabriel Jennings bellowed as four of the crew rounded a corner and found the
place swarming with military men with more following behind them.
�Get to th�ship any way yer can!� Jack replied, as
he fought off another opponant.
�Where�re th�rest of you?�
�We got split up - th�rest have gone ter th�hidden
boats,� Oliver Fernan yelled, grabbing a gendarme and headbutting him,
splitting his nose open with the force.
�Never did like th�French�� he muttered.
�Good,� Jack smiled to himself, enjoying the battle
as were the rest of his men.
Celia sat dismayed in the boat, watching the
carnage unfolding before her eyes, her hand shooting to her mouth in horror as
one of the French officials launched himself at Jack.
�Maybe yer�d best sit with yer back to
it,� Elliot suggested, kicking himself for having positioned them both so that
she couldn�t see what he wanted to and she did not.
�N-no� go back for them. They need a boat,� she urged.
�Th�cap�n told me ter keep you safe.�
�Please,�
Celia begged. �Go back� I�ll take your
punishment for you, please��
�He�ll kill me,� the young man muttered, stopping
the boat and sitting there, undecided.
�Elliot!�
�Ah, sod it!� he swore, starting to row back
towards the quay again. �If I�m goin�
ter die, it might as well be doin� somethin� good fer a change.� He turned the boat, letting it drift the
last few yards to the wharf and wished fervently that he had time to load his
pistol with shot.
�Cap�n!
Th�boat�s comin� back,� Matthias shouted above the din of the fight.
�I�ll bloody kill him� Jack promised, dispatching a
soldier with more force than was strictly necessary. �I gave you an order, Deane!�
�Miss Celia made me turn back,� Elliot whined. �Besides, I know fer a fact that Gabriel an�
Matty can�t swim��
�You lot - in!� Jack ordered, jerking a thumb at
the boat, covering for Gabriel and Matthias as they climbed down, and he cursed
silently as more troops arrived to join in the mele�. �Mouse!� he called, frowning as he realised his crewman was
surrounded by men and in danger.
�Jack!
Oliver!� Celia screamed, looking aghast as the Irishman fell to an
onslaught from the French and Jack fought his way over to him, grabbing his
collar and hauling him to his feet then fighting his way out again.
�Thank�s Cap�n,� Oliver muttered as he ran as best
he could towards the boat, bleeding copiously from a sword wound in his side
and various lacerations, wincing as pain stabbed at him with every movement.
�Row!� Jack commanded, jumping into the water and
taking Oliver with him, pushing the striken man towards Gabriel�s outstreched
hands, relieved when he dragged his crewmate onto the boat.
�Come on, Jack,� Celia urged, reaching out for him
and pulling his hand as he clasped hers, and with help from Gabriel, hauled him
aboard, while Elliot and Matthias pulled hard on the oars. The occupants of the boat jumped out of
their skins as a boom sounded from the Black
Pearl and several of the French troops fell into the water as the cannon
shot found its target.
�That was a bit bloody close,� Jack yelled in the
direction of his ship.
�Good job yer�ve got th�best gunners then, ain�t
it?� Gabriel quipped with a grin before turning his attention to his fallen
crewmate. �Bloody hell, Mouse. Yer in a right state.�
�Ta,� the Irishman croaked. �I needed ter hear that��
�Here, let me,� Celia offered, changing positions
as best she could and lifting Oliver�s shirt, unsucessfully stifling a gasp as
she saw the wound in his side. She
tried to get to her undershift to rip up as a pad, but found Jack�s soaking wet
shirt being proffered instead.
�I�ve got plenty of shirts,� he shrugged, ducking
instintively as another shot whizzed over their heads. �I wonder if that means Frazer made it back
all right?� he mused
�I reckon so,� Elliot grinned. �Did yer find anythin� out, Cap�n? About Goodluck?�
�I�ll tell yer on board - right now, concentrate on
gettin� us ter safety, savvy?� Jack
watched as Celia tended Oliver�s wound, a pang of jealousy stabbing at him but
he pushed it down, wanting all of his wits about him when he boarded the ship
and made ready to flee, although he knew his quartermaster would already have
everything in hand.
�Jack,� Celia worried. �You�re bleeding as well��
He glanced down at his bare chest, frowning to see
a trail of blood trickling down from where his own shot wound had pulled open
again and as soon as he thought about it, the pain hit him and he winced. �Bugger!� he cursed, putting his hand up and
pressing it, trying to stem the flow and ease the pain, but he knew it would be
a hopeless task. �Hold your fire!� Jack
ordered as they approached the ship.
�We need help with Oliver,� Matthias called to
those on deck and a board with straps was quickly lowered down with several of
the crew peering over the sides to see what had happened.
�Man th�bloody ship!� Jack snapped, angry with the
gawping. �Celia, can you climb up
th�ladder?�
�I-I�ll try,� she nodded, standing and gathering
her skirts and placing a tentative foot on the first rung of the rope ladder.
�Sorry, luv, but yer need ter go a little faster
than that,� Jack urged. �I�ll be right
behind you��
�Can you climb?� she fretted, glancing over her
shoulder at him. �You don�t want to
injure it further.�
�I�ll be fine,� he assured her, giving her a peck
on the cheek before she turned back to the ladder. �Off yer go�� Jack waited
until she was halfway up before gritting his teeth and grasping the side of the
ladder, hauling himself up more by determination than strength, breathing a
sigh of relief as he reached the rail and swung over to stand on the deck. �Everyone on board?� he asked Joshamee Gibbs
as the portly man approached him.
�Aye, all accounted for,� the quartermaster
nodded. �We�ve not lost one, and
hopefully we won�t lose one,� he
sighed as Oliver Fernan came into view, strapped to the board. �Get Celia to look at your shoulder, then
she can help Matthias with Mouse, eh?� he suggested.
�All right,� Jack conceeded, acknowledging to
himself that it was more to do with wanting her attentions focused on him
rather than the Irishman, than any concern he had for his own wound. �You have command fer a few more minutes -
yer don�t need me ter tell you ter get us th�hell out of here��
�Aye, Cap�n,� Gibbs nodded, turning and barking
orders, wanting to be as far away from Saint Georges as possible and grateful
for the fact that it was a wide bay rather than a harbour, making their escape
a lot easier. �Unless they have a flotilla up the coast,� he thought darkly to
himself.
�Celia,� Jack called. �My cabin.� He strode
across the deck, pushing open his cabin door and holding it for her before
making his way to his chair, sinking gratefully into it, watching as the young
woman came in, pale faced and shaking.
�That was close,� he chuckled, wincing as his shoulder jarred.
�Y-yes,� she stammered, hurrying to the side cabin
and fetching the pitcher of water.
Celia started to wash the blood from his chest and around the wound with
trembling hands and she bit her lip as tears started to well in her eyes.
�You all right, luv?�
�Y-yes� no!� she exploded. �How many times do you get injured?� Celia
demanded, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes. �How many times will I have to worry and fret and tend you all?�
�Ah� does that mean you care about us - me?� Jack enquired, a soft smile playing
on his lips. �You were wishin� away
th�next five an� a half months earlier, an� now you�re worried fer us��
�You�re still men, still human beings, even if you
are despicable pirates!� she spat, throwing the rag into the pitcher in
anger. �Damn you!� Celia cried, fleeing
into the side cabin and wishing it had a lockable door on it. �Leave me alone,� she sniffed, hearing his
boots walking across the cabin.
�Hey�� Jack soothed, winding his good arm around
her shoulder. �It�s all right, luv.�
�No, it�s not,� she argued, wiping her eyes with
her handkerchief. �I thought we were
going to be killed - that you were going to be killed. I�ve watched you slay men today - I�ve never seen anyone die, not
violently, at least, and I feel sick to my stomach. And yes, damn your eyes, I do
care!�
�If I�d realised everything would go
pear-shaped�� he began.
�You�d have done what? Not sent the men? I doubt
that,� Celia snorted derisively. �Not
taken me? I wish you hadn�t�� She sank back against the bulkwark, closing
her eyes and exhaling deeply. �I�d
better go and see if Matthias wants my help.�
�He can manage a while longer,� Jack cajoled. �B�sides, I need this dressin� again,� he
shrugged, looking down at his bleeding shoulder.
�Come on then,�
Celia sighed, allowing Jack to lead her back into the main cabin, and picking
up the bloodied rag and washing his wound once more, trying to be as
dispassionate as she could, and then patched him up, winding long strips of
cloth around his chest to keep the dressing in place.
�Ta, luv,� Jack smiled. �You all right, now?�
�Fine,� she replied in a tone that suggested
otherwise. �If you�ll excuse me��
Jack watched her leave the cabin, a frown creasing
his brow and he stroked his braids absently as he wondered what to do to make
her feel better. �Later�, he thought to himself.
�We haven�t left Saint Georges,
yet.� He stood and walked from the
cabin, his mind still on the young girl as he stepped on to the main deck,
shaking himself in an effort to concentrate on the matter in hand. �Any problems, Gibbs?�
�None so far, Captain,� the older man replied. �There is a ship coming out of the harbour, but they don�t have a cat�s
chance in hell of catching us.�
�Good,� Jack nodded. �Mouse?�
�Dunno yet,�
Joshamee shrugged. �Been too busy
gettin us away.�
�All right.
Thank you , Mister Gibbs.� Jack
strode to the quarterdeck and took out his spyglass, focusing on the ship
attempting to give chase. �Mister
Burford, head north-northeast.�
�Aye, aye, Cap�n,� the helmsman grinned, knowing
that they would be going to the Isla de Muerta.
�
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Saints and Sinners