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Harry and the Pirate: Norrington's Choice

Whereas His Sacred Majesty by the Grace of God, of England, Scotland, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, Etc. Hath an Open and Declared War against France and Spain, their Vassals and Subjects. And Forasmuch as you have made Application unto Me for License to Arm, Furnish and Equip the ship Black Pearl in Warlike manner, against Her Majesties said Enemies, I do accordingly Permit and Allow the same; And, Reposing special Trust and Confidence in your Loyalty, Courage and good Conduct, Do by these Presents, by Virtue of the Powers and Authorities contained in His Majesties Royal Commission to Me granted, Empower and Commission you, Jack Sparrow, to be Captain or Commander of the said ship Black Pearl: Hereby Authorizing you in and with the said ship and Company to her belonging, to War, Fight, Take, Kill, Suppress and Destroy, any Pirates, Privateers, or other the Subjects and Vassals of France, or Spain, the Declared Enemies of the Crown of England, in what Place soever you shall happen to meet them.

I. Justice

Against all logic, the Vaillant had not surrendered. Jack had run up the Jolly Roger and the Union Jack straight away, and had fired a warning shot across the ship's bow as well, but the bloody fool of a captain on the French ship paid no heed, though he had to know there was no chance of escape. The Vaillant moved into firing position, and the Captain of the Black Pearl had no choice but to engage. There was a violent if mercifully brief exchange of cannon fire. The Vaillant's forward mast splintered and fell, and the ship was badly hit near the waterline. The Black Pearl, on the other hand, sustained little damage, to Jack's relief: there was a bit of a hole gaping, but it was high up and could be repaired while they were underway.

As the Pearl closed with its prey, Jack gave the order to board, sending the French crew scurrying this way and that in their panic. Grappling hooks were thrown, and gangplanks were quickly set. The pirates swarmed over to the crippled ship, a ragtag, roaring mob, armed to the teeth but mindful of Jack's orders to intimidate rather than kill or even injure, if possible. They were quite accustomed to these oddly unpiratical guidelines by now, and were actually becoming quite proficient at looking like crazed killers, all the while keeping their baser instincts in check: if they were unable to do so they wouldn't last long under Captain Sparrow's command, and he was fast building a reputation for leading extremely profitable ventures. In spite of the ten percent that went to the Crown in return for his Letter of Marque, Sparrow and his crew were building up tidy little fortunes.

Unfortunately, the Captain of the Vaillant had declined to cooperate. To the pirates' consternation, the French crew refused to give quarter, resulting in many injuries among both crews, and some unnecessary deaths among the Frenchies. Finally Jack fought his way to the enemy captain and disarmed him.

"Wilcox! Dobbs!" Jack shouted. Instantly the men were there, and took hold of the big, hawk-faced commander of the Vaillant. Jack put the tip of his sword against the man's neck and pressed in slowly, the skin giving way and a drop of blood sliding down the shining length. The Frenchman shuddered and strained against the hands that held him. "Call them off. Now!" Jack said, his eyes blazing cold fire.

The Frenchman complied, almost choking over it, but then he recovered a little and shouted imperative orders to his hapless crew. They laid down their weapons with what looked like relief to most of the pirates.

"Bloody stupid fool," Jack said, looking around the now quiet deck. Quiet except for the disturbing moans and cries of the injured. "Tie his hands, you two. O'Brien, get the crew busy lowering the boats off this wreck. God's teeth, she's already listing. The rest of you get the swag, and make it quick if you don't want to be swimming."

The crew scurried to obey, realizing from the slight tilt of the deck that Jack was right: the Vaillant was doomed.

Jack went down to the captain's cabin to gather what he could. The cabin wasn't large, and Jack had gone through a great many of the cupboards and drawers already when Wilkes came in, a look of shock on his face.

"What is it?" demanded Jack

"You'll need to come see, sir. It's a coupla women and three little 'uns!"

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Jack and followed Wilkes out. As he followed Wilkes forward to the tiny guest cabins he muttered furious imprecations that boded ill for the French captain. They pounded down two flights of stairs and Montez, who had been guarding the door of the cabin pushed it open as Jack approached. He stood in the doorway and stared—and was stared back at in turn by four sets of bright blue eyes, and a set of brown. The brown ones belonged to a rather tall, plainly dressed, middle-aged woman, her motherly face just now contorted with anger and fear.

"Don't you dare touch us, you devil! I'll kill you with my bare hands!" she told Jack, her voice shaking.

"Maria, no!" warned the second woman, from where she lay in the narrow berth.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and he exclaimed, "You're all bloody English! What the devil are you doing here?"  He looked at the slender, fair-haired lady laying in the berth, cheeks pale, eyes deeply shadowed, covered to her chin with blankets against a chill only she could feel: the woman was quite obviously ill! And huddled close beside her were the children, all fair-haired and blue-eyed like their mother, a sturdy boy of about twelve, his face a picture of defiance, and his two sisters, one a little younger than the boy, mouth agape at Jack's appearance, the other barely more than a baby, her face streaked with tears and her thumb firmly in her mouth.

Suppressing the urge to spout a string of colorful curses, Jack's eyes narrowed and lit once more on the tall woman, who stiffened. "Who are you? The Nurse?" he demanded.

"Yes."

There was no time to chitchat, or to assuage the finer feelings of this dogged guardian. He addressed the Nurse in a clipped growl. "The ship's sinking and there's no time for arguing. You'll do exactly as I say or I'll bloody well have you tied up and thrown into my brig, where you'll be of no use to your charges at all, savvy?"

The Nurse struggled with this, then said tightly: "Very well."

"Good," said Jack, a little less vehemently. "Take the little ones up—my fellows will help you cross over to the Pearl. I'll follow you up with your lady."

The Nurse and her lady exchanged a fearful glance, but then the lady nodded, a look of resignation in her eyes. "Go Maria. Take care of them," she said in a quavering voice.

"Yes, Lady Margaret. Come children."

The two little girls came to her outstretched hands, but the boy hung back, his blue eyes flashing at Jack. "I don't want you touching my mother! Keep away from her, you…you blackguard!" He lifted his chin at the pirate and took his mother's hand when she held it out to him.

"No, Charles! You must go with Maria!" his mother implored weakly. "Please!"

Jack frowned, his sympathy for the boy warring with the need to get them off the sinking ship with all possible speed. "I'll not touch her more than needed lad, but she don't look as though she can carry herself, and you can't do it. Go with your Nurse, now."

"I don't care if you kill me!" Charles said dramatically, squeezing his mother's hand. "I'll not leave her!"

Jack laughed shortly. "Kill you?  I'll have Wilkes pick you up and bloody carry you! Or you can walk over on your own. Quick! What's it to be?"

Young Charles frowned, glancing at Wilkes, who was a couple of inches taller than the pirate captain and considerably heftier and looked like he would have no trouble at all toting a half-grown boy wherever his captain wished. Charles then looked at Jack again. The pirate's eyes were unrelenting, though somehow not unkind. The boy swallowed hard, and said, "Don't hurt her!" He let go of his mother's hand, but not before he felt her squeeze his comfortingly.

"Good lad," said Jack, approvingly. "Wilkes, take Master Charles and the ladies up and see that they get over to the Pearl safely. Put 'em in my cabin for now—I don't want 'em on deck until we're through here."

"Aye, Captain," said Wilkes, and ushered his charges out of the cabin without more ado, although the boy gave a backward glance and frowned in apprehension as he saw the captain of the Black Pearl move toward his prostrate mother.

Lady Margaret steeled herself and struggled to sit up. Jack took her forearms in his hands and helped her. She bent her head as her vision briefly dimmed, but then lifted her face to peer into his. "I think I can walk, if you will just help me to stand, Captain."

"Right, then," he said, pulling aside the blankets. She was dressed in a gown of dove gray, trimmed in black—mourning perhaps?--and it had obviously been donned in a rush, with a button undone here, a bow untied there. She was very slender in spite of having born three children: too slender, for the dress she wore was too loosely fitted for fashion. She'd lost weight recently, then. "Swing your legs over…now on the count of three: one, two, three!" He half lifted her to her feet, and let her hang onto his arms for a minute as she swayed dizzily, waiting for her vision to clear again. Then she straightened.

"There! I think I can manage now. Thank you." She gave a relieved smile.

"We'll see," he said shortly. "I'll help you up the stairs."

He supported her up the two flights to the main deck, but by the time they emerged into the sunlight she was pale and breathing heavily, perspiration gathering on her forehead and above her lip. She winced at the bright sunlight, spots swimming before her eyes again.

"That's enough," said Jack, and swung her up into his arms, disturbed at how thin she was. She made no objection, but tried to make it easier for him by putting her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek against his shoulder, but he thought this had more to do with a vain attempt to hide from the stares of the ships' crews than with her illness.

Jack walked the length of the deck, then carried Lady Margaret across the gangplank to the Black Pearl and handed her off to the waiting Gibbs. "Put her in my cabin," Jack said.

"Aye," said Gibbs, "I've already put Miss Maria and the young 'uns there. That bloody Frenchie should be hung for stupidity, bringing on a fight with women and children on board."

"He'll wish he was before I'm done," Jack said grimly, and turned and bounded back over the gangplank. Reaching the deck of the Vaillant he said, "Blake and Stratford, get forward and clean out the guest cabins—the ladies' and childrens' things are in there. Bowers!"

Bowers, an enormous, coarse-featured fellow with a cauliflower ear, lumbered up with an "Aye, Captain?"

"Feel up to practicing some of the skills you learned in the Navy, Bowers?"

Bowers, who had been a bosun's mate in a former life, quirked an eyebrow. "Got someone 'oo needs floggin' then, Cap?" he asked with some enthusiasm

"The Captain of this bloody vessel," Jack nodded. "He's got a cat in his cabin that looks like it's seen some use, though not on his back I'll wager. We'll see how he takes to it, eh? Off to the quarterdeck now—I'll join you shortly."

"Aye, aye, Cap!" Bowers said, cheerfully. His peculiar skills had not been of use since he had joined the crew of the Black Pearl after it had become necessary to curtail his naval career due to an unfortunate incident with an officer (who had sustained a broken jaw). He had assured Jack from the start that he would be glad to oblige should the Pearl's Captain ever have need of those skills, but Jack had told him that more creative, forms of punishment were generally used on the Black Pearl when necessary. It seemed however, in this case, the Captain was willing to make an exception. Bowers ambled back to the quarterdeck, whistling.

Jack walked purposefully to the captain's cabin and grabbed the bag of charts, instruments, and books that he'd been packing when Wilkes had come in. Then he picked up a wicked-looking cat o' nine tails, which lay in the corner of the cabin. He grimaced, looking at it, realizing it must have been used fairly recently. "Bloody bastard," Jack thought, anger swelling anew.

Jack made his way to the quarterdeck of the listing ship. Most of the French crewmembers were already in longboats, ready to be set adrift, but many of the Pearl's crew were still hurriedly removing swag from the hold of the Vaillant. However, everyone in sight stopped to watch as Jack approached the French Captain, his eyes as cold as death.

The Frenchman was hefted to his feet by his guards. Jack walked up to him, dropped the bag and gave the man a vicious backhanded swipe across the jaw, snapping the man's head back in the process.

"You stupid fool!" snarled Jack. "Men have died today because of your idiocy, and you'd women and children here as well!"

"I do not lower myself to surrender to pirate scum!" the man said, cold pride on his face, though he eyed the cat in Jack's hand with misgiving.

"I should skewer you where you stand," Jack said in a deadly voice, "but I don't kill in cold blood an' your not worthy of an honorable engagement. Bowers!" The big man stepped heavily forward, standing next to Jack, and smiled down at the French captain, who blanched. Jack handed the hideous whip to Bowers. "A dozen strokes of the cat. Then throw 'im overboard—his crew can pick up the remains, if they care to. And if I ever see your ugly face again," Jack hissed at the man, "I'll bloody cut your guts out, scruples or no!"

The terrified but still defiant Frenchman was summarily stripped of his coat, vest and shirt, and tied up by his wrists. He roared, "You will pay for this, Sparrow! I shall be revenged on you! I swear it!" But then Bowers began, and the French captain was rendered incapable of coherent speech. The next couple of minutes were punctuated by the dreadful sounds of the whip meeting flesh, and the accompanying shrieks of the Frenchman. Jack looked on, outwardly impassive, though he fought down nausea inwardly: he had been flogged with a cat himself once, and that once had been more than enough for a lifetime. Even as angry as he was, the pain and fear of the man was a palpable thing to him, but he let Bowers carry on until the sentence was complete.

"Cut him down," Jack said at last. Bowers tossed the cat aside, and complied, and he and a couple of the other men took hold of the Frenchman, dragged him to the side of the ship and tossed him over. The man made no sound as he fell, hitting the water twenty feet below with a big splash, but bobbed up again, gasping and howling as the salt water turned his bloody back to fire. Jack watched until he saw that the man's crewmembers were going to haul him into one of the longboats, then turned away.

Most of the Pearl's crew had not stopped to watch the gruesome performance, but had carried on with removing the Vaillant's cargo. Jack, pleased at this, grabbed up the bag of things he'd lifted from the captain's cabin and headed to the gangplank. "Finish up, you dogs! She's not got much longer. All back to the Pearl as soon as may be!" he roared at them. He crossed the gangplank, striding across the narrow way as though it were firm ground instead of narrow boards suspended twenty feet over choppy water. He reached the Pearl and turned toward his cabin—and then saw the boy, Charles, standing at the rail, his face white.

Swearing under his breath, he walked over to the boy. "What in blazes are you doing up here?" he demanded. "How long have you been there? Did you see?"

The boy nodded slowly, his eyes full of horror.

"Bloody hell," Jack said, suddenly weary. "Did you hear everything?"

"Do you mean…his…" the boy said in a constricted voice.

Jack reached out. The boy shank away from him, but Jack took his arm in a firm grasp anyway and turned him to the railing. "You see him down there?"

Charles looked down at the longboat, where the French Captain lay weeping, surrounded by several of his crew, who looked none too pleased to have him amongst them.

Jack said, "He'll likely live, which is more than five or six of his crew can say. If he'd used his head they'd still be alive, there'd have been few injuries, and you and your mother and sisters would be on your way to wherever you were headed. He'd only have been out some cargo. D'you understand what I'm sayin'?"

Charles looked at him. "But he was the captain!"

"Aye, he was. And a captain's responsible for the lives of everyone aboard his ship. He can't hold pride over the safety of his crew."

Charles' forehead furrowed. "He…he should have surrendered," the boy said slowly, understanding.

"He should have surrendered," Jack agreed. "Now get down to my cabin, but don't tell the ladies everything you saw. No need to distress them with too much detail, eh?"

"No," agreed Charles, with feeling, then added bitterly, but with a little trepidation at his own boldness, "Bad enough that we're prisoners on a pirate ship."

But Jack only laughed. "Aye. Bad enough. But maybe that won't be as bad as you're fearing, lad. Go on now. You can take this bag along with you to the cabin for me, if ye please." He handed the boy the bag and turned away to supervise the last of the boarding party's return to the Pearl.