He’d let them have their way. Truth be told he had barely spoken in the time they had been in the great cabin, for the faces and the voices were slowly pushing the world of the living away from him, and seeing past them to the expressions and words of his crew seemed more effort than he could make.

Tired, he was so tired that he was unsure whether his hand or arm, or lips even, would obey him if he tried to move them. Never in his life had he been so tired, it was as if he had aged a hundred years in the days since they had left Sparrow behind at Tortuga, and the energy with which he had steered them through Calypso’s maelstrom and fought the Dutchman’s crew was just a distant memory. So he had sat in his chair before the charts and watched in stony silence as they set out their case. For himself he was content to sit and wait for Sparrow to arrive, he had no doubt that the man would pass this way in pursuit of the fountain eventually, but there was no denying that he had expected him to be here before now. Even so he was disinclined to venture far from here in pursuit of Sparrow for fear that he would forget how to return.

‘Yet there was something in what they said’, he thought. ‘No sayin’ that it weren’t a navy ship that had pulled Sparrow from the wreck of that dingy. The admiral be dead ‘twas true, at least so Mrs Turner had claimed, but there would be other admirals and commodores and captains a plenty coming to take his place, and none of them would turn their noses up at the chance of hanging Jack Sparrow. Certainly not now he’d struck so public an accord with the captain of the Dutchman.

For himself Barbossa would be happy to provide them with the rope if they would just hand that chart over to him first.

As Pintel set out their demands, Raggetti at his shoulder and a’polishin that new eye of his again, he sat and watched them, noting the speculation in Marty’s eyes and the greed in his companions. But he was seeing them through a haze of other faces and hearing them through a babble of other voices and it was a struggle to separate one from t’other. Only little Jack, sat on his shoulder and crooning in his ear, seemed real any more. Finally he realised that they had fallen silent, that they were watching him closely, like sharks circling a wounded man. But he would not show blood yet and he slid his hand to his sword hilt drawing comfort and strength from the feel of the polished grip and the fit of it to his hand.

“Aye, it be true that the navy would love ta catch Jack Sparrow,” he said, “and it be true that the navy be back in these waters so there is a possibility that he has fallen into their hands. But if that be the case then he be hung already.”
“Aye sir,” Pintel’s words were almost deferencial though his eyes betrayed that his thoughts were far from being so, “but if we knew that they had hung Captain Jack then we would know not to wait for him, and we could set about recovering the chart some other way.”
“Something more frontal so to speak,” Raggetti smirked.
Barbossa felt the threat of that smirk and his fingers tightened on the sword hilt, but he kept the feeling from his face and voice, and his smile still felt as if it had all the cunning of the past.

He pulled another nut from his pocket and fed it to Jack, allowing his finger to stroke the furry head as the sharp little teeth devoured the titbit with pleasure.
“That be true mateys, that be true.”
He nodded as if considering their words carefully, though the truth was that he was finding it hard to hear his own words above the whispering voices.
“Tortuga might, as ye suggest, harbour those who know what the navy has been about since their return, and if they have taken Sparrow. Seems that Jack is havin’ more difficulties getting here than expected, maybe he has met his well deserved end after all. In which case ye be right that we need to take other measures.”
He forced himself to wait for a moment as if considering the possibilities, as if he were still truly captain; though he feared they all knew it were no longer so, and knew that he had no choices any more. Then he nodded solemnly,
“Very well matey’s set a course back to Tortuga.”

The voices clamoured louder as they turned away and the faces clustering around him hid the knowing smiles and triumphant looks as they went; he didn’t even hear them leave.

***

Gibbs had always been a reliable sort, predictable too, and to Jack’s great relief this night was no different. Barely ten minutes after he had settled himself into the hedge to wait, as comfortably as possible with twigs and thorns at his back and tangling in his scarf and hair, a crunching of boots on the cinder path told him that Gibbs was coming. Even so Jack waited until the unmistakable shadow appeared in front of him, and he could be sure that the man wasn’t accompanied, before he hissed at him,
“Oy Gibbs you alone?”

A curse told him that Gibbs had heard him, and, after a moment of looking around, he came closer, leaning down to peer into the shadow,
“Jack! Mother’s love, that be you?”
“Aye mate, and very uncomfortable I’m being too. What possesses the woman that she needs a hedge of thorns!”
“Goats!” Gibbs said before he could stop himself, “and sheep, and maybe hens too,” he finished with a shrug.
Satisfied that no one else was preparing to join Gibbs on his after dinner stroll Jack edged himself out of the prickly cover and onto the path beside his friend, picking his clothes free of woody debris with finicky care.
“Well why can’t she keep something less adventurous, like…” he frowned and struggled to think of something unlikely to need thorny hedges to restrain it, but his knowledge of livestock failed him. Gibbs didn’t seem to notice anyway, being more concerned with recent events than the hedge, he caught at his captain's arm
“Jack, Barbossa be looking for you. Returned the day after he left you behind and seemed powerfully anxious to find you. In a foul mood he were too, near tore the town apart trin’ to find where you had gone to. Looked for me too but I stayed out of his way, and you’d be best adoin’ the same, leastways until you have a crew behind you.”

Jack’s smile glinted gold in the poor light,
“Hector lookin’ for me? Ah, well, there would be a reason for that.”
“So I thought,” Gibbs nodded, “took something away from the Pearl with you when you came ashore I expect.”
The gold smile disappeared and Jack’s mouth became prim, but his eyes danced as he stuck his hands into his sash.
“A trifle, nothing more. Just a little leverage you might say, should it be needed.”
“Which knowin’ Barbossa seemed likely.” Gibbs nodded with a smile.
Jack quirked his brows in amused agreement,
“So it did, and so it proved. The Pearl will not go far, not while a certain item remains with me.”
“This item bein….?” Gibbs queried.
“A chart, a very interesting chart.”
“Sao Fengs’s chart?”
Jack grinned again and waved an airy hand,
“Since Sao Feng is not so regrettably deceased the ownership of said chart must be open to question. Must it not? As William was the one who near drowned for it, seems to me that he would have most claim. But since he profited from the stabbin’ of Jones heart with help of my humble self, and is now Captaining the Dutchman at my expense, it seems to me that my claim to that chart is as good as Barbossa’s. Even without him stealin’ me ship. Though what got into the crew that they should listen to him…..” he shook his head in apparent puzzlement.

While he had been speaking Gibbs had started to frown, now he cast a hurried look back to the house before catching Jack’s arm and pulling him away from the gate and the cliff path.
“Jack what brings ye here? I’m sure Polly will be welcomin’ if you need a place to hide, and she and her kith would do you no harm, but have a care, no sayin’ who else may be out and about. With Barbossa looking for you so particular there might be those that would be happy to trade with him.”
Jack just smiled,
“Not here mate. Just you and me and the …..” he flapped a careless hand at the pale shapes dozing under the scrawny bushes, “… livestock. Everyone else is down where the rum is. Talking of rum don’t happen to have any to hand do you? Ship that brought me here is noticably deficient in that matter.”

Gibbs nodded and jerked his head towards the shadow of the outbuildings,
“There’s like to be a bottle or two in Pol’s still room. Does this other captain not carry rum?”
“No mate, a devotee of brandy as it happens, and doesn’t carry much of that.” He raised a warning finger as if to ward off any criticism of such lack of foresightedness, “there are reasons for that, good ones.” He shook his head and sighed, “Though I never thought to hear myself say such a thing. Funny old world eh?”
“Aye it be that alright.”
Jack’s face was sombre as he looked at Gibbs,
“More truth in that than either of us knew once knew mate.”
Gibbs gave a rueful nod and led the way to the stillroom in silence, both lost in thoughts of people and events come and gone.

***

Only when they were settled on sacks of cane with a bottle in their hand did he return to the most pressing of matters,
“Having left Tortuga so precipitous like what is that brings you back so soon?”
Jack took a swallow of rum, licked the drops from his moustache and grimaced his appreciation before raising his eyes to look at his friend without evasion,
“I have a need of your services.”
“In what way?”
Jack leaned back against the wall, the bottle cradled on his knee,
“Well it occurred to me that while I am in possession of this aforementioned leverage it would only be sensible to make some use of it. Who knows when the opportunity will present itself again?”
Gibbs frowned as he swallowed another swig of rum,
“What is it that you be lookin for this time Jack?”
“Nothin’ less than the fountain of youth itself mate.” He took another swig of rum, then flicked a hand, with finger raised in emphasis, in his companion’s direction, “I told Barbossa that I would not be returning to the locker and nor shall I. So if I can’t he havin’ the Dutchman then another means of avoidance must be found. One that doesn’t chain me on land.” He shrugged, “this fountain seems as good as any other given that the chart shows its’ restin’ place.”

Gibbs looked thoughtful for a moment before he slowly shook his head, a frown appearing between his eyes,
“Jack, be careful. I recall that the last time you went lookin’ for some supernatural artefact you ended up being left to die, and Barbossa wound up cursed.”
Jack frowned impatiently and flicked his hand again, this time in dismissal,
“No more than his just rewards,”
Gibbs drew a deep breath and nodded,
“That be so, but you would have been cursed along with him if he hadn’t mutinied.”
Jack waved his finger again but this time with a smile, he winked,
“Ah yes, but I would not have been so foolish as to throw one of my crew overboard, nor would I have spent it all before I realised my mistake.”
Gibbs nodded his agreement at that but his frown didn’t change,
“That’s so, but the lesson remains the same, such things are not meant for this world, nor for men. Mark my words Jack, it’ll not be so simple as just sailing up to it and taking it, for if it was so why did Sao Feng’s ancestors not do it?”
Jack gave a twisted smile and took another deep swallow from the bottle,
“I know that and be easy, I don’t think that it will be, easy I mean, but that doesn’t alter the facts that it is there for the taking if we can just find the way.”

Recognising the look in Jack’s eyes Gibbs sighed knowing that nothing he would say would change his captain’s mind. If that were the case then Jack would need someone at his back. He swallowed another drink,
“You be wantin’ to find a ship and crew then? Not much in harbour when I left, not that would make such a journey. Might be weeks before somthin’ suitable presents itself.”
Jack gave him a grin that was little short of triumphant,
“I have a ship mate,” he caught Gibbs look of surprise and his smile faded, “well…. Not have as such…. Not have as in having as you might say…nor owning…. Nor taking as such. But…. “ an idea appeared to occur to him and he smiled brightly again, “ having the use of, you could say, for the forseeable.”
“Havin the use of……” Gibbs was obviously puzzled.
“Aye, havin’ the use of. ‘Tis a wonderful ship too,” he raised his hand in a placatory gesture, “not the Pearl I grant you, but the next best thing.”

“How come ye to be just havin’ the use o’ this ship?”
Jack squirmed a little at that and took another gulp of rum before answering,
“Well it has a captain, that is another captain… other than me that is.” He saw Gibbs look of surprise and waved his hand dismissively again, “and there are reasons, good one’s, why that captain cannot be displaced. But!” he raised his forefinger in triumph, “this captain has agreed to take part in this little venture provided that ….. they… get a chance at sharing the prize.”
“Fool is he then, this captain?” Gibbs smirked.
An oddly evasive look drifted across Jack’s face for a moment then was gone, lost in a rueful smile,
“No, more’s the pity, very much not a fool. But clever, Gibbs, and possessing some very fine…. Advantages.”
That brought another puzzled look to Gibbs face,
“So what do you be needin’ me for? Do you need more crew? Does not this clever captain have a crew?”
“Oh aye the ship is fully crewed,” that fleeting look came and went again, “but there are goods that are like to be needed, and I would welcome a pair of hands and a pistol at me back on the venture. One that I trust.”

There was strange emphasis on the last words that sent Gibbs eyebrows into his hair, but Jack ignored the look instead indicating the squat homestead barely visible in the dark night beyond the still room door, “unless you have a mind to stay here for a little longer.”
Gibbs just shrugged,
“Pol knows that I’ll go if you need me. She knows too that Barbossa has taken the Pearl and be looking for ye. She has no likin’ for Barbossa.”
“Good man.” Jack smiled and there was something of a softness in that smile, “knew I could rely on you. Always have and you’ve never failed me. But I’ll not be draggin’ you from your cosy billet quite yet. T’will take some time to get what we need and I’d rather not hang around in Tortuga while you do it, no more should you. Barbossa may well be back and I’d rather pick the moment to face him than let him force it on me. Nor will the ….. other captain wish to keep the ship moored here. So the plan is that I take you aboard tonight, explain the plan and then bring you back at dawn. We sail away leaving you to do the necessary and we come back in a day or two to collect you and then we set off on our venture.”

Gibbs spluttered on his rum,
“Row out there tonight and back again? For why Jack.”
“Because this captain is not a fool and wants to see you before we reach any accord.”
“Jack, this sounds like trouble to me. Why not just wait a while, hide here, then scuttle down to Tortuga when we get word of something suitable in town.”
“Because we’ll not find a better ship unless it’s the Pearl, and I don’t think she will be returning here just yet. Barbossa will be scouring the seas for me, and I know where he will be lookin’ and it isn’t here. I want the Pearl back and I’ll not wait ten years this time. But it needs the opportune moment and this isn’t it.”
Jack took another swallow of rum and rolled it around his mouth while he watched Gibbs in silence. Eventually he swallowed it and raised the bottle towards Gibbs,
“Besides there another reason.”
“And that be…?” Gibbs asked.
“This.”
Jack reached into his shirt and pulled out a rope of something, slowly he let it fall between his fingers, the coils of it swaying enticingly below his hands. Gibbs nearly dropped his bottle as he recognised the rope for what it was, a string of high lustre pearls.
“Jack! Where did you find that? You didn’t have it when you left here that I’ll swear.”
“Isle De Muerta mate. Remember?”
“But that was reclaimed by the sea!”
“Aye,” Jack swung the rope of pearls from side to side watching the candlelight shining on them with proprietary pride, “But there is a way. It’s as I told you, this Captain is clever and this ship unusual.”
Gibbs reached out and touched the string of pearls his eyes widening in disbelief,
“By all that’s….” no exclamation seemed to be enough and he just shook his head in wonder.
Jack nodded and squinted at the pearls between his fingers,
“Imagine it, an eternity of youth and a seabed full of treasure to provide for any other needs. Eh?”
In the candlelight Gibbs eyes gleamed and he took another swallow of rum. Then he got to his feet pinching out the candle
“I’ll tell Pol, I’ll be back by dawn shall I?”

Jack knew that he was hooked.

***

The descent down the cliffs was less hair raising than the climb up. They had eased their way down to the grassy slopes then anchored the rope and clambered down the rest of the way. When Gibbs returned he would wait on the beach until the tide was fully out then walk around the headland to the shepherd’s path that was accessible only at low tide; he would remove the rope as soon as he got the chance.

The strip of sand was already slightly wider than when Jack had arrived, signifying that the tide was on the turn, and, despite the increasingly heavy swell, the journey back to the Chaser seemed to take half the time of that the wearying row to the beach. Jack smiled and wondered how much of that was due to the enlivening effects of his first rum in days. But not his last, between them they had managed to bring a half dozen bottles down the cliff and those bottles were now nestled comfortably in the bottom of the boat. Not properly finished, it were true, and a little on the pale and weakly side, but rum none the less. Jack smiled as he admitted to himself that he was looking forward to introducing Elanor to one of the pleasures of his time; who knew maybe it would take a little of the starch from her sails.

In the bay the Dawn Chaser glowed pearl white in the occasional moon, riding the growing seas with no effort, sails tightly furled but with anchor chains taut. Gibbs stared at the ship as its lines became more easily discerned in the uncertain light and Jack could see his growing unease. Finally he could be silent no longer,
“What strange manner of ship be this Jack? She’s nothing I’ve seen the like of, and, though I’ll grant you she be trim enough, she looks as if a harsh wind would break her.”
“She’s stronger than she looks mate, but ‘tis true she is strange and nothing like you or I have known. But she’s fast, maybe even faster than the Pearl.”
Gibbs shot him a wary look,
“And her Captain be as strange too?” When Jack said nothing but shot him one of those gilded grins of his, he shook his head, “Jack what trouble be ye courting now?”
Jack said nothing but the grin widened.

With a feeling of trepidation he couldn’t quite explain Gibbs followed Jack up the ladder that hung from the strange ship’s side and on to the whitest decks he thought he had ever seen. Above him the triple masts were rigged in unfamiliar ways and the sails had a look, even in the moonless dark, that told him of their pristine condition. It looked like a toy built for some rich man’s son to play with.

Yet there was something about the cut of her that warned him not to be forward with his conclusions, something that whispered that, like Jack’s beloved Pearl, there might well be more to this lady than met the eye. Jack had seen his looks and ignored them, but as he looked up towards the helm Gibbs saw his shoulders tense and his eyebrows twitch and he wondered what was coming now. With a beckoning hand Jack strode up the deck towards that helm and figure who had been standing in the shadows detached itself and stepped towards them.
“Ah Captain Cavendish there you are.” Jack’s voice was all easy bonhomie and he waived a languid hand towards Gibbs, “May I present Mr Gibbs.”
But there was something in his eyes that warned he was not as relaxed as he might first appear, that look remained as, with a swirl of coat tails and braids, he swirled to face Gibbs,
“Mr Gibbs, meet the captain of this fine vessel, Captain Cavendish. Who has magnificently, I mean magnanimously, agreed to aid us on this venture.”
Despite the easy words the anxiety was now plain in his face to one who knew him well and Gibbs felt his belly turn.

At first Gibbs thought his eyes were deceiving him in the certain light, but as the figure came closer it was clear that they weren’t and that the captain of this ship, so named by Jack, was a female. That was bad enough, but as she came closer still a light on the mast glowed brighter throwing her form and face clear of the shadow and he felt his heart turn like his stomach. As she came still closer a protest was squeezed from between his lips,
“Jack!” he squeaked as he fought the urge to cross himself.
His mind felt like a ripped sail flapping in the winds of his disbelief. Once, a long time ago when still in the navy, he had seen a holy painting, and in it a face so beautiful that no one looking upon it could doubt the grace of God. A holy messenger it had been, man or woman he had never been sure, but more glorious than sunrise on the Caribbean. Never from that day had he seen such a face again. Until now.

Now he was looking upon it once more. He could not tear his eyes from her and all he could do was wonder how even Jack Sparrow had managed to find a ship captained by an angel.