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The Haunting Place	By : Lktwoozee Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 11161 -:- 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
- 28
- 29
- 30
Author�s Note: That other site (cough, you know the
one, cough) deleted my fic and being the sensitive creative type, I became
quite pissy and moody about what I wrote (I know, I really need to grow
up!) Hence the loooong delay.

Gratitude to everyone who emailed me to check up, I made it
a point to respond to each and every one.
You guys are really too freakin� nice to me! Jack-kisses for everyone!

Chapter Note: This chapter was a challenge for me. The majority of it is in neither Jack�s nor
Maren�s perspective and it took me awhile to get accustomed to that, but I
believe I obtained the desired effect.
I also wanted to focus more on the clever con in Jack.

And one more thing, Jack�s chosen alias from POTC is
Smith. Throughout this chapter I will
be using that alias for both him and Maren.
This has nothing to do whatsoever with the movie �Mr. and Mrs. Smith�,
which holds no particular interest for me.

Chapter Twenty-nine: Cacho!
To Valdez�s
great delight, the stupid Englishman arranged his cards in order of suit rather
then face value. At least he was
reasonably sure it was suit over value after watching the man lose three hands
in a row. Across from him, an inconspicuous
scratch to the index finger alerted him that the Lieutenant thought so as well. Either way, the sorry fact that this
simpleton would error so grossly as to publicly arrange his cards was like
blood in the water to a card shark such as Valdez.
�Whoops,�
the sloshed sailor fumbled with his last card and it slipped from his grasp,
dropping to the table. The withered
card landed facedown, so it was still in play, but alas for the unfortunate
drunkard, Valdez�s sharp eyes caught the pointed corner of a Valet�s cap and
the black of a Cup. Seeming to fidget,
he tapped his fingers upon the table in three-eighths time and signaled to the
Lieutenant what he�d seen.
�R-aise,�
the Lieutenant spoke with one of those charming Spanish accents that teased and
flattered the English language, rather then actually soiling the pallet
speaking it. The Lieutenant, or �el
Teniente� in his native tongue, was not referred to by his real name while in
this particular pub, patronized by foreigners and gamblers. In fact, he wasn�t supposed to be there at
all, especially in uniform. It wasn�t
that the Spanish Navy opposed the many vices housed in the �Ole Nun�,
understanding that with sailors certain sins must be permitted. It was the other patrons that the Navy
forbade contact with.
Since the
decay of Portuguese influence in the New World, Spain had enjoyed a generation
of unchallenged trade routes and profitable monopolies, a lucrative commodity
that it guarded jealousy. However, that
was before the modern British Navy. A
century in the making, the English fleet was virtually undefeated in open waters
and the Spanish had not won a single major naval battle against the British for
fifty-some years. While the Spaniards
were confident in the security of their territories, they were not so assured
about their precious trade routes, which had already been disturbed by rampant
pirating. The sack of Carcelero twelve
years ago by the Black Pearl had been devastating. And as is often the case with sinking ships, the rats scurried
forth; ergo, a surplus amount of corruption swelled the ranks of the Spanish Navy.
It was said
that a Spanish officer would sooner accept a bribe then obey an order.
In
desperation to smother the raging fire of bribery and crime, the Spanish fleet
enforced a strict code of ethics upon their officers, �Do not do business with,
socialize, or otherwise sustain any sort of relationship with any foreigner,
lest you be poisoned against your own countrymen.� This especially referred to Englishmen, the Portuguese, and to a
lesser extent the French. It also
didn�t work.
Case in
point; the Lieutenant�s hobby of visiting the �Ole Nun� and conning many a
foreign man from his purse with the help of his civilian partner, Valdez, was
overlooked by his superiors as long as he wasn�t too flippant about rubbing
elbows with the enemy. Currently, they
were using subtle hand gestures and a partially marked deck against a blatantly
homosexual Portuguese merchant who seemed to know he was being cheated, but was
too enamored with the Lieutenant to care, a brutishly big Georgian man who was
most definitely a fugitive of some kind, and last and most probably least, the
stupid Englishman that arranged his cards according to suit.
�Ummm,� the
kohl eyed man picked his teeth indecisively, �I�call.� Seeming to regain his inebriated confidence,
he proudly produced his hand and was only swaying slightly, �Admittedly not a
monumental gambit as far as the history o� strategic games o� chance go, but me
high card�s the Valet o�, wossaname?
What the hell is that thing? A
bowl o� some sort?�
�A cup,�
Valdez supplied helpfully, while the others laid down their cards.
�Aye that�s
what �tis,� Smith beamed, (�Or Smithy if ye like,� he had stated enigmatically
upon introduction), �A cup! Valet o�
Cups. How clever this game, er-.�
�Cacho
Senor,� Valdez continued, �De game is called Cacho.�
�Oh did I
win?� curiously, he glanced around at the other hands, �Is this not the high
card?�
Valdez was
hard pressed not to laugh at the Englishman�s stupidity. �I am sorry, Senor,� he spoke English
for the benefit of the stupid man, �but in de Spanish deck, Knights are
higher den Valets. It seems de
officer has won.�
�Muy bien,�
Gomcallo, the Portuguese merchant attempted to flirt with the Lieutenant and
pat his shoulder, but the Lieutenant simply gave him a-very-cold-stare. Gomcallo abruptly removed his hand.
�Lucky
you,� the Colonial man, Reed, said as if �good fortune� was the farthest thing
from his mind. Valdez�s gaze flickered
to the Lieutenant and they both silently agreed to take no more money from the
Georgian behemoth. After all, just
because a bull is dull-witted does not make death by mauling any less
painful. Besides, the ignorant Mister
Smith seemed to have enough money to satisfy them and was too blissfully
inebriated to realize he was being cheated, or to even be upset by it.
As the
Lieutenant started shuffling the deck, Smith pouted into his mug of mead,
slurring, �Ca�n seem to get the hang o� this Cacho. Damn Spanish deck, all Cups and Swords and
the like. Bloody daft, if ye ask my
opinion.�
�How for-chu-net,
we did not,� the Lieutenant answered, lyrically and clipped. Absently, Gomcallo licked his lips.
The cards
were dealt among the misty haze of the smoke-filled pub and the general bluster
of many sailors making up for a sea�s voyage worth of celibacy and
sobriety. Again, the daft Englishman
arranged his cards and actually stayed in the game for three raises. Such an imbecile! Reed and the Lieutenant folded and Gomcallo called. Valdez was the only player who had a hand of
any substance, a modestly low cacho in the suit of Clubs. The tinkle of coins clanking together was
heaven to his ears as he gathered the pot towards himself.
�King o�
Swords!� Mister Smith flippantly procured his cards, not only tardy but loudly,
though everyone had already caught a glimpse of them while had turned his back
to absentmindedly hail down the barkeeper for another drink, �Highest card,
right?�
�Si,� this
time Valdez let a snicker slip through, �But as you can zee, I have a
cacho.� He presented his three same
suited cards.
�But
they�re low,� Smith tried to protest, �and not even straight.�
�Cachos
always beat high cards,� even Reed was tiring of Smith�s antics, �Now shut your
windpipe, you�re slowing the game!�
�I�m sorry
to be sure,� humphed Smith into his mug again.
Gomcallo
smiled indulgently, while taking his turn to shuffle the cards and speaking in
broken Spanish and English, �El Teniente, I no catch tu name, por favor?� Apparently, the Portuguese merchant enjoyed
a certain amount of romantic abuse and seemed dead-set on setting his cap on
the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant ignored
him, but Gomcallo kept at it, �Such a�how you say? Humid nocha, si?�
Just as the
Lieutenant was about to answer with a thinly veiled threat, a terrible
commotion clamored over the general hubbub.
The crooked door of the Ole Nun crashed open as a busty blonde came
bellowing into the tavern, her eyes flashing and chest heaving, �Jack! She was an attractive enough tart, with deep
blue eyes and pretty flushing
cheeks. Drunks and prostitutes alike
jumped as the newcomer stormed across the pub, earning several glares from the
whores who thought their customers were paying a little too much attention to
the blonde. All cacho players watched
as this miniature Valkyrie stormed over to their table, whining terribly,
�JAA-AACK! Ye cheap bastard Jack, I�ve
been waitin� near on two hours for ye to fetch me and what I finds?! Ye playin� cards-.�
�Smith!,�
corrected Mister Smith, hissing importantly, �O� Smithy, right dove?� He abruptly made a conspicuously obvious
motion with his head around the table.
Now really! Valdez couldn�t keep
his eyes from rolling. Why did smugglers
always think they were so clever?
Honestly, who did he think he was fooling?
The fuming woman was temporarily confused,
blue eyes darting at the tables occupants and finally settling on the uniform
of the Lieutenant in delayed realization, before quickly regaining some of her
previous temper, �Er, right Smith.
Where were ye, eh? Ye promis�d
to buy me some satin knickers, but ye ne�er show�d. Ye be a despicable miser, that�s what ye be!�
Valdez and
the Lieutenant raised curious eyebrows at each other before immediately
imagining what this attractive tart would look like in satin underthings. It was a promising fantasy. Reed wiped at his mouth and chortled in a less-then-friendly manner. And of course, Gomcallo flustered a bit when
he noticed the Lieutenant was showing an interest in the new arrival.
�Gentlemen,
may I present,� Mister Smith�s voice lilted in some private mirth, �Missus Smith.� He chuckled to the blonde woman and winked
in an all too evident way.
But the
lass�s tirade wouldn�t be swayed so cheaply, �Jack, ye son o� a bitch. See ifen ye can suck yer own cock tonight,
�cause I-.�
No sooner
had she made her threat, then a gold chain suddenly appeared in Smithy�s
decorated hand and he immediately surrendered it to Missus Smith.
The woman
shut her mouth, eyeing the dangling trinket critically.
�Oh, I love
it!� the necklace seemed to have the desired effect, when the curvaceous beauty
abruptly threw her arms round the Englishman�s neck and squeezed and squealed
with all her might, �Ye spoil me so, Jack!
It be so pretty, I shall ne�er take it off! Ooo, just waits tils I get ye �tween me sheets. Ye�re not gonna walk straight for a month, I
swears it! Jack, ye makes me so happy!�
�-sm-ith-,�
the man muttered between the smothering pillows of her cleavage, his face
turning blue.
�What a way
to go,� was the shared thought of every man at the table, save maybe Gomcallo
who was now trying to bat his eyes at the Lieutenant.
At last,
Smith pried himself away from the chocking grasp of his enthusiastic �wife�,
tugging her eagerly onto his lap instead, �Come have a sit, pretty bird. Me luck�s to shite and I could use some
�cheerin� up�, ifen ye get me meanin�.�
A small thrust of his hips almost de-seated the bonnie occupant. As if suddenly feeling the burning stares of
his fellow Cacho players and being quite annoyed with them, Smith
absentmindedly turned and smirked at the table, �Who�s up to deal?�
Reed
blindly reached for the cards, shuffling and dealing, but never taking his
sights off the pretty strumpet as she slipped the trinket on over her
head. The golden necklace draped like
sweet honey around her slim neck and four pairs of eyes drifted down to where
the chain delightfully pressed between her presented breasts. She seemed pleased by this effect and
dropped her lids to half-mast, very slowly kissing Smith in sensual
appreciation.
�Ye are truly
beautiful. Exceptionally, hauntingly,
all-consuming-ly beautiful,� the Smiths were enraptured in each other, hands
stroking and petting immodestly even though they had an audience to their
amorous liaison and Smith�s cards lay forgotten upon the table.
�How ye
flatter me, sir.�
�I want ye,
I want ye so badly it hurts.�
�Then ye
shall be havin� me.�
�Ye wearin�
yer red stockings? My favorites?�
�Only one
way to finds out.�
�Have I
communicat�d the urgency to which I desire to fuck ye?�
�Senor!�
Valdez exclaimed in shock. It wasn�t
that Valdez was prudent by any stretch of the imagination, in fact he was
rather fond of impropriety, but the English couple foundling each other so
publicly right in the middle of one of his fixed card games was too much even
for his risqu� taste. How was a man to
properly cheat another drunken, stupid man under such circumstances? Forcing himself to speak in a quiet and calm
manner, Valdez motioned to Smith�s cards, �De game, if yu
please?�
�Aye, o�
course the game,� as if only remembering their persistent presence and as if
being incredibly inconvenienced by it, Mister Smith picked up his three cards,
sighing in his smoky drawl, �Let�s have a look-see, shall we?� However, Missus Smith seemed un-persuaded,
since she was still nuzzling his neck and nibbling in a teasingly flirtatious
manner.
Two tugs
on the gold hoop, one lick along the shell of his ear�
�I
raise, half a crown.�
This time
Valdez couldn�t hide his smirk. The
stupid Englishman stayed in the game for two more raises and he barely was
paying any attention, having been totally preoccupied with his groping, little
strumpet. Perhaps this situation was
working out to Valdez�s and the Lieutenant�s advantage. The Lieutenant started fiddling with the badges
across his uniform, signaling to Valdez that he had nothing and neither did
Gomcallo, who had been �accidentally� showing his cards to the Lieutenant in a
pathetic hope to woo the officer. �How
sad these Portuguese men,� Valdez thought with no real sympathy.
Valdez only
had the Knight of Swords, but decided to call anyway. After all, Mister Smith barely even knew the rules of the
game. What were the chances of-
�King of
Coins,� Mister Smith raised his face up from his woman�s neck, where he had been
thoroughly licking her pretty collarbone, to present his hand, �Highest card
right?�
�Si,� the
Lieutenant glared at Valdez for making such a foolish mistake as expecting a
lone Knight to take the pot.
�So I win,
savvy?�
�Si.�
Well, it
was probably for the better anyway, since allowing the Englishman to win one
small pot would make the duo seem less suspicious.
�Congra-chu-la-sh-ions,�
attempting his best �good-for-you� face, Valdez patted Smith upon the shoulder,
mindful to avoid touching the whore in his lap. Not that he didn�t want to tough her of course, but Valdez was a
smart enough fellow to know that when a man is that in love with a woman as to
ignore a card game and a mug of mead, that man is most definitely just as
violent in protection of her. Best not
tempt the devil. Gathering the worn
cards, Valdez smiled and shuffled, �See Senor?
Very easy, dis cacho is.�
�I feel me
luck�s finally blessin� me with her fine presence,� Smith�s blurry vision
landed right back on Missus Smith like a weathervane in the wind, �Thanks to me
lucky charm here. Ain�t that right,
sweet lovely?� Abruptly, he kissed her
in a sudden frenzy that stunned the onlookers, pulling back her head to
subjugate her and reveling in the sounds of her surrendering mewls.
Reed
snickered again and leered in lusty approval as Smith�s hand squeezed the right
cheek of the whore�s backside.
�Very
well,� shrugging and sharing an astonished laugh with the Lieutenant, Valdez
decided it best to ignore them and continued dealing the cards. If the Englishman wished to fornicate at the
table, well so be it. As long as Valdez
could cheat the man, what did he care?
His present
hand had potential. Valdez examined his
cards, giving one up in hopes of drawing a card in the suit of Swords, which
sadly turned out to be the Two of Cups.
Luckily, the Lieutenant itched his pinkie three times, signing that he
had been dealt a cacho, so all was well.
Valdez remained in the game for two raises for the soul, villainous
purpose of driving up the pot, before folding in the last round.
Meanwhile,
the two lovers were relentlessly �involved� with each other, arms stroking and
tongues tasting. The smell of expensive
perfume and cheap rum wafted off the couple and Valdez couldn�t help but to
concede that it was a very erotic smell indeed. Every now and then, they�d stop to whisper some steamy
declaration into the other�s ear.
�Me
darlin�, me darlin�, please do�n stop,� she cooed in a wispy alto that made
Smith shiver in ecstasy. Flashing her
fantastically white teeth, she bent her head to kiss him once more.
A wet
kiss pressed against his Adam�s apple, a nip at his whiskered chin�
�What
the hell? Count me in for one crown!�
Smith�s voice lilted in his hoarse, yet musical manner.
�Call,�
Reed tossed his cards into the table, having received nothing for an admirable
attempt at bluffing.
�Ca-,� the
Lieutenant had barely uttered this syllable, while procuring his hand before-
�Cacho!�
Smith cut him off, laying his cards down coyly and trying his damnedest to keep
his eyes from crossing when Missus Smith slipped her hand under his linen shirt
and started toying with his abused nipple.
�And I believe my cacho arrives at the sum of eleven. That�s how it�s decid�d, right? Aah! Sweet Jeh-sus luv, I sees ye, ye
naughty gel. Daddy Smith�s playin� a
card game. Wo�n ye be a good lass and
settle down for a moment?� Smith had to interrupt himself when Missus Smith
latched onto his chest and sucked upon breastbone until she marked him with a
purple lovebite. She giggled playfully,
relenting for the moment. Smith
cleared his throat in a no nonsense manner, �When two cachos are present�d, the
highest sum of cards is the victor? I thought
so. So what do you have there Mister
Lieutenant?�
�Ocho,� the
Lieutenant was losing temper. Letting
the oaf win once was bad enough, but the indignity of permitting this tramp a
second hand was intolerable. He could
feel himself itching under his uniform.
�Eight,
eh?� Smith let his head fall back as his woman started sucking at his throat,
but never strayed his eyes from the Lieutenant�s flashing ones, �Tough luck
mate. Ye need to find yerself a lucky
charm of yer own. Nice littl� senorita
with long lashes and quick hands.� To
which Mister Smith snatched the deck and quickly began shuffling, his hands
moving suspiciously fast for a drunken man.
The strumpet in his lap seemed unmoved by the preoccupation of her
�husband� and continued to wiggle her hips in an incredibly distracting way.
Something
wasn�t right and the Lieutenant was willing to bet his left nut that it had
something to do with that woman in Smith�s lap. Very convenient how Smith managed to win twice after her arrival,
but how was she cheating? If she was
indeed cheating then she was damn good at it.
There were no obvious tricks that he could see and the Lieutenant knew
every trick in the book. It was their
marked deck for crying out loud and the woman wasn�t even playing a hand of her
own, so they weren�t playing doubles like Valdez and the Lieutenant were. So maybe�
Decisively,
the Lieutenant knocked over his mug with his elbow.
�Oops,�
allowing the mead to splash upon the floor and the tankard to follow with a
clatter, the Lieutenant shrugged in his stiff uniform as if to say, �aren�t I
the butterfingers?� and knelt upon the ground to retrieve his fallen mug. Overhead, Smith made some obnoxious joke
about the Lieutenant �not being able to hold his drink�, like that stupid lush
was one to talk about holding liqueur!
For the first five minutes of the game, the idiot kept laying down his
cards and shouting, �Bingo!�
The
Lieutenant glared in the dim light under the table at the twisting legs of the
Smiths. He noticed with some interest
that the Englishman was working his thigh between the whore�s legs and that she
was wearing black stockings, not red.
However, what the Lieutenant really needed to see were her boots, but
she kept rubbing her calves and ankles along Smith�s and her many skirts kept
hiding them within their folds. How
annoyingly inconvenient! In
frustration, he grabbed her right ankle, ignoring her cry of indignation, and
searched her boots for mirrors. He was
positive they were using mirrors, it had to be!
There were
none.
But now
there was a very prominent pistol in his face and Mister Smith, bent
over and glaring at the Lieutenant.
�That leg,�
and Smith paused to cock his weapon, �is mine.�
Wordlessly,
the Lieutenant released his hold on Missus Smith�s ankle and slowly removed
himself from under the table. This
immediately appeased Mister Smith who abruptly disarmed his gun and tucked it
away, returning his attentions to his �wife�.
Valdez
glowered at the Lieutenant, wondering what in hell had made his partner decide
to grope another man�s woman while she was in the embrace of said man. Resolutely, he snatched up his cards. His nerves were starting to fray. Not only was Mister Smith totally insane,
but now it seemed his lunacy was rubbing off on his partner. What should have been an easy con was
becoming annoyingly difficult. Still,
after checking his hand, Valdez realized the night was still salvageable. He had been dealt a cacho to the sum of
twelve right off the deck and Mister Smith had even been the one dealing! Who could accuse him of cheating now? Careful to keep a stone face, Valdez chewed
on the cuticle from his left hand�s index finger, signaling to the Lieutenant
to raise the pot as much as possible, because he was pretty certain he had this
game sacked!
Speaking of
sacked, Missus Smith was pushing the boundaries of not only decency, but also indecency,
by straddling Mister Smith in wanton abandonment. The Englishman could barely see the table over her shoulder, but
he didn�t seem particularly bothered since his face was buried in her awesome
cleavage anyway. Her hands were
scratching at his back, while he did wonderful things to her bosom.
Let them do
as they will, Vadez decided. This lucky
hand was going to win back the two pots he had lost form that stupid, drunken
git-
A finger traced the fine curve to his
spine and a hand clasped and pulled the bone in his hair�
�I fold,�
Smith proclaimed cheerfully and discarded his hand, in favor of grabbing the
bottom of his whore with two fists.
Fold?!
�Que?�
Valdez shouted, perhaps louder then originally intended, then quickly darted
his head under the table, checking their shoes for mirrors and belatedly
realizing what the Lieutenant had been up to while grabbing the woman�s
ankle. �But yu did not even draw
a card,� raising himself up to the table again, he said half-accusingly, �Yu
can draw a card, remember Senor? Yu
can draw a card before de first raise, den fold on de
second. For Santa Maria�s sake, it is
not dat damn difficult to play Cacho!�
Nevertheless,
Mister Smith was ignoring Valdez�s whines, finding the gentle squeeze of his
lover�s thighs much more distracting.
�I�m sorry, but I shall have to pass upon this game and partake in the
next,� to which, Smith immediately set to work sneaking his hand up Missus Smith�s
petticoats.
Sensing
that Smith just might know something they didn�t know, Reed and Gomcallo folded
as well. Apparently, no money was to be
had and an excellent hand was completely wasted.
The
Lieutenant made a mental note to locate this bastard smuggler�s ship and
personally make his stay in el Carcerlero a-living-hell. After all, a Spanish officer could be a very
expensive and time-consuming problem for a merchant ship with questionable
cargo.
Valdez
wanted to shoot that self-assured smirk off that son of a bitch�s face. �El Teniente, deal,� he growled. The mockery of losing two hands and wasting
a twelve cacho on some fornicating buffoon was infuriating. And the sorry fact that the prickless dog had the nerve to sit there and sport
with his strumpet only rubbed salt into the wound. Valdez-Would-Not-Be-Ignored!
Somehow, somewhere, someway he was going to tear this Englishman a new
one and-
-and that
�somewhere, somewhere, someway� was just dealt to Valdez.
Providence
was kind! Christ was merciful! And thank the God of Scandals!
Because in
his manicured hand were three cards, the Valet of Cups, the Knight of Cups, and
(Valdez�s hand actually shook as he revealed his last card) the King of
Cups! A straight cacho, all face cards,
was the highest cacho possible. This
was the type of hand that men prayed for!
Unfortunately,
that tell-tale shake of Valdez�s hand hadn�t gone unnoticed by the other
players. Reed vehemently swore and
threw his cards down, �Fold and bugger this damn game. Fucking Spanish bullshite!�
Gomcallo
looked apologetically at the Lieutenant before quietly calling, �Fold.�
The
Lieutenant seriously considered putting a bullet through his partner�s head for
making such an amateur mistake. There
was no way the Englishman was going to stick with this hand now.
Meanwhile,
the Smiths were quickly on their way to all out fornication, only with more
clothes then was usual. Mister Smith
had arisen to his feet, setting his squirming woman upon the table and
upsetting everyone�s drinks and coins.
He bent over her, mouth sealed over her searching lips and squeezing her
backside and bust at leisure.
�Senor Smi-t,�
listlessly and already dreading the inevitable �fold�, the Lieutenant asked, �Are
yu in?�
One fair
hand glided down to his stiffening member and squeezed�
�Raise five
crowns!� the Englishman shouted in a raspy cry, grabbing her hand to still her
assault and staring at her with such an intense heat, that even Gomcallo had to
wave himself off with his hand to cool his collar.
Raise?! Five crowns?
Suddenly, both
Valdez and the Lieutenant were extremely grateful that Smith�s whore had come
along. Smith had been too distracted to
notice the lapse in Valdez�s stone face.
Not only that, but apparently he was too distracted to even look at his
cards! Valdez would�ve kissed her had
he not been certain that the stupid smuggler would�ve shot him for it.
�I will
see dat and raise ten crowns.�
�As will
I,� the Lieutenant had every intention of bankrupting the fool.
�Oh what
the hell? I�ve got a bed to hurry off
to anyways,� as if deciding he had more pleasurable pursuits then gambling,
Mister Smith pushed all his gold pilings into the middle of the table, after
setting Missus Smith down of course.
�Shall we finish this,� his eyes danced with some dark merriment and
Valdez had the sudden foreboding feeling to forfeit.
But that
was crazy! He had a thirty-sum cacho
and Mister Smith hadn�t even looked at his cards yet. By why the devil did this man look so
confident?
�Agreed,�
Valdez forced himself to say, glaring at Missus Smith who was smirking at him
over Mister Smith�s shoulder, while she pawed at Smith�s sleeves.
�Agreed,�
the Lieutenant grinned, not picking up on the bad vibe that Valdez was. Knowing full well that Valdez�s gambling�s
didn�t equal that of the Englishman�s, the Lieutenant added his stock to his
partner�s. Now they were ready to call.
Then the
Lieutenant noticed something that made his stomach turn to bitter lead.
The whore,
in her wanton petting of Mister Smith, had tugged upon his sleeve and revealed
a tattoo of a bird above ocean waters.
Sparrow�
�Madre de
Christo,� he gasped under his breath.
The sharp
ears of the supposed Mister Smith caught the curse and his swift and suddenly
sober eyes followed the stare of the Lieutenant down to his coppery
forearm. A wicked smile graced his lips
and he resolutely tugged his sleeve down and winked at the Spanish officer.
Unfortunately,
Valdez hadn�t noticed the exchange and probably wouldn�t have recognized the
tattoo even if he did, but alas, he was too absorbed in his impending victory
over the very-stupid-Englishman.
�Call,� Valdez permitted himself a terribly self-satisfying laugh at
Smith�s expense, �Face cacho. Such sad
luck yu have my friend. Better
for-chune next time-.�
�Three
sixes,� Smith drawled, enjoying the woman nibbling his finger and sliding his
thumb over her lips. He stated plainly,
�I win.�
For a
moment, there was an eerie silence around the table. Even the smoke cleared a little as if to make room for trouble.
In his temper,
Valdez jumped from his seat and probably would�ve launched himself at the
bastard had the Lieutenant not leapt forward to restrain him and, in doing so,
most likely saved his partner�s life.
�Why,�
Gomcallo spoke up, in admirable awe, �I du believe yu won, sir.�
�Damn,� was
Reed�s educated response.
�Indeed,�
gathering the gold to him and reveling in the delicious chorus of coins
clinking together, Mister Smith slurred, �Three sixes be the highest hand,
beats everythin� else. All good
Cacho players know that, they do. After
all, easiest fuckin� game there is.
Would�n ye agrees, senors?�
Enraged and
in dumb denial, Valdez stared at the three sixes on the table to the strange
man, back to the three sixes and to the man again. He finally glared suspiciously at the woman hanging off of
�Smith�s� arm and running her fingers through the gold coins in a seductive
caress.
Three
sixes, the sign of the devil, three sixes.
And for
some inexplicable reason, Valdez just knew that the devil in this
scenario was her.

0000000

�Did ye see
the look on that bastard�s face?!� Jack guffawed down the street, arm wrapped
around Maren�s waist. He enjoyed the
warm breath of her infectious laughter against his shoulder and the way the
night air pinked her cheeks, �When ye �accidentally� expos�d me tattoo? Christ, that was priceless! Almost piss�d his trousers!� A quick nip from his rum bottle and the
Captain was laughing hysterically again.
One or two tears of pure mirth fell from his eyes.
An average night in the slums of
the port city of El Carcelero was always an active one. Sailors and merchants were busy and about,
searching for fun and sinful ways to spend their earnings. Prostitutes and salesmen were also on the
move, searching for easier ways to take those earnings. The street was a bustle of moving bodies
that smelled of drink, sex, and greasy food.
It was no Tortuga by any stretch of the word, but Carcelero had enough
vice to stand on its own.
�And when
he grabb�d me leg and ye pull�d that pistol on �em, I almost cav�d, Jack, I
really did!� she giggled so hard, she couldn�t breathe and it honestly started
to hurt her stomach; but she couldn�t stop, not when Jack was laughing so hard
it bordered on lunacy. �By the way, ye
randy prick! Ye went a littl�
o�erboard, when I was givin� ye the signals.
I do�n cares to be done o�er in the middle o� a card game, savvy? I be so embarrass�d, I shan�t e�er return to
the Ole Nun as longs as I lives.�
�But they
were such delightful signals,� Jack guffaws settled down into smoky chuckles,
�A kiss there, raise. A scratch there,
fold. A grab for me sociables, go for
broke. How was I to resist? Especially the latter, ye ca�n expect a man
to keep his head when a bonnie lass is keepin� his other head in her equally
bonnie hand.�
�I still
ca�n believe I strok�d yer whatnots in the middle o� a pub,� Maren added,
accusingly, �And ye be hard too. Ye
were gettin� off, Jack.�
�Could�n
help meself,� he swayed as he walked, forcing Maren to tilt as well.
�Kristy
says,� Maren hushed her voice, but the whisper threatened to pool into
hysterical laughter again, �that the Yank was sportin� a stiffer too. Ain�t that positively vile? Imagine that giant gettin� all itchy
watchin� our wee show. Yuck!�
�I noticed
yer delightful blush ne�er crest�d yer delightful cheeks,� Jack teased,
�Could�n have been too embarrassed.�
As if on
cue, Maren�s skin turned a coy pink and she snatched the rum bottle, hiding her
discomfiture behind a drink. �I be
actin�,� she defended her modesty, �Would�n do to have a �whore� blushin� o�er
a littl� public display o� affection.�
�Promise me
you�ll ne�er lose that blush, sweetheart,� noticing a tipsy passerby on the
busy street, Jack�s quick hands snatched a pipe he had been admiring from the
man�s pocket and quickly popped it into his mouth. He patted his pockets for his tobacco and tinderbox, �I adore
that blush too much to e�er see it gone.
Promise me no matter how debauched I make ye, no matter what sick vile
things I talk ye into, that you�ll ne�er stop blushin�.�
�Ca�n
hardly help it anyways,� Maren of course blushed more and Jack groaned in
appreciation. In her graceful arms,
Maren clasped a large purse with the winning pot jiggling merrily as they
walked. She held it tightly within her
white fists, glaring suspiciously about for pickpockets. Of course, she needn�t of worried. Any wandering eyes of a passing thief first
noticed the winking grin of Captian Jack Sparrow as he pointedly flashed them
his pistol.
�Normally,�
puffing up importantly, Jack lit his new pipe, �I�d take a sixty percent cut
seein� how I�m yer Cap�n and all, plus I had to instruct ye on how to cheat
proper. But as a sign o� good faith
�tween the two o� us, we shall split the take fifty-fifty, savvy?�
�Ye means
in threes, Cap�n,� Maren corrected, drawing his title out in a seducing
tease that always stirred Jack up.
�To hell I
do-,� Jack�s tirade was cut off.
�Kristy be
wantin� her even share too.�
�Poseidon�s
prick, what ye mean Kristy?!�
�Aye,�
sticking her nose high in the air, Maren snorted, �She had an equal part in the
con, an essential part really, and she wants her share o� the profits.�
Dumbly,
Jack glared at the empty air around him, as if he could spot Kristy and ask her
himself if she was daft or drunk.
�She�s bloody well dead,� exasperated, Jack flailed his hands
about, �What�s a bleedin� ghost gonna do with a third cut?!�
The look
fleeted briefly over Maren�s features, while she listened to the dead
woman. �I�m to find two rentboys,�
Maren recited, �one pretty and the other handsome and hire them to bugger each
other at great length.�
Not being
able to help his juvenile sense of humor, Jack snickered at the pun, �Huh, length,�
before clearing his throat and gaining some control over himself. �Why would Kristy want ye to do that, eh?�
he asked, interested in spite of the fact it was going to cost him part of his
cut.
�Kristy
likes to watch, especially beautiful men at it.�
A very,
forbidden and not altogether unpleasant thought arrived in Jack�s quicksilver
mind. �Does,� and Jack�s voice rose in
sheer mock-innocence, his eyes blinking big and brown, �she e�er watch us?�
�Eew!� the
medium grimaced, �Ne�er! That be
repulsive, she�s like me kin.�
�Pity,�
Jack muttered under his breath, �would�ve been a hell o� a turn on.�
�What?�
snapped Maren.
�Said,
�Was�n that fellow a moron?� not missing a beat, Jack covered his tattooed
arse, �That Spanish card shark, what a twerp!
Thinkin� he can cheat Captain Jack Sparrow with a partially mark�d deck
and a couple hand signals? Pah, what a
fool.�
A commotion
of some kind was barely visible at the east gate of town, yet it still caught
the corner of Maren�s eye. Slowly, the
entire mass of pedestrians noticed some sort of foray in the hidden darkness
outside the town limits.
Suddenly, a universal and eerie
quiet fell over the entire slum section of Carcelero, something was happening
on the far side of the port. It was the
queerest effect, the rising swell of panic that spilled from one end of the
street to the other, like some invisible tidal wave spreading foreboding. At the far end, shouts were heard and
ringing bells and sounds of various alarm rang out, and as one, the entire
occupants of the busy street started pushing forward as the shouts were becoming
audible. They were beginning to hear,
in their native Spanish:
�Run to your homes!�
�Head for the hills!�
�The Black Pearl!�
�Pirates!�
�Leave the city! Run!�
�The Black Pearl! The Black Pearl is in the bay! Sparrow has returned!�
�Capitan!� Sparrow bellowed over
the growing hubbub, but no one was paying him any attention, �That�s Capitan
Gorrion, ye daft bunch o� peasants!�
�So what now?� having to shout over
the rambunctious mob, Maren stood on her tiptoes and thought she glanced the
face of Morty Muerto on the far end of the crowd, the largest, at six feet nine
inches, (but also surprisingly gentle) pirate of the Black Pearl�s crew.
�Now we pillage and plunder and
don�t give a hoot,� Jack sang happily.
�Oh,� Maren was jostled by the crowd and Jack had to
keep his arms about her to keep her close, �Suspect�d it�d be somethin� like
that. So what shall we pillage and
plunder first then?�
Jack smiled and because no pirate could�ve resisted
such an obvious invitation, lowered his lips to hers and claimed her mouth for
himself.

0000000

Translation: Capitan
Gorrion- Captain Sparrow
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- 29
- 30
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