Pirates of the Caribbean: Barbossa and the King's Messenger (Book 1)

A Risky Venture

Chapter Thirteen -- A Risky Venture

I steered my canoe absently down the sluggish Pantano as if in a dream, numb with grief over Jack's death. Stopping at last upon a swampy bank of the river near the edge of the forest, I sat listlessly for some time, my heart overwhelmed. Finally, I stepped out of the boat, shouldered the sack of my belongings, and wandered down towards the shoreline. Tia Dalma's instructions had left me in some doubt as to what I might expect, but as I emerged from the trees, a familiar voice hailed me.

"Oi! Jen . . . Nina! Good t' see ye again, whatever name ye be usin'!" Rufus called out, laughing at his mistake. I hurried to his side and clasped his hand as if he were pulling me from the depths of the ocean. In the years since our last meeting, age had turned his hair white, but his eyes were still hawk-like and penetrating, and his powerful grip had lost none of its strength.

"Rufus! Of all people - I have so much to tell you!" I was anxious to confide in Rufus, trusting his counsel to see me through all my sorrow and confusion, but he forestalled me.

"Ais, Nina, there be plenty o' time fer all that, but let's get ye aboard so's we can show our heels t' these waters. We sail on the Troubadour now; Teague's fitted 'ur out right an' proper," he lifted his chin, smiling broadly. "Surgery's a bit bigger; we'll need that when the time comes." I boarded the small boat he had pulled up on the beach, and he pushed it off into the surf, climbing aboard with more vigour than I would have expected from a man of his years. I wondered what the "time" was that might be coming, but he rowed in silence until we reached Teague's ship.

As Rufus brought our boat alongside the Troubadour, I asked, "Are you to be my sentinel once again?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "Ye haven't the need of 'un now. The lot of 'em heard what ye did t' that murderin' Kitto, an' how ye escaped Barbossa. P'raps I added a bit t' Kitto's tale - it did grow in th' tellin'." Then with a toothy grin, he added, "Some of 'un were talkin' o' 'Wild Nina', whisperin'-like."

Still chuckling under his breath, he brought me aboard and took me at once to see Teague in the captain's quarters. Though ten long years had passed since our last meeting, Teague still retained the powerful, authoritative air and mysterious, dark-eyed gaze that I had known all my life.

"Sorry we meet like this," he told me, "Thanks for helping Jacky with the key."

As he mentioned Jack's name, my anguish must have been evident, for he held up his hand to restrain the flood of tears and questions I was barely holding back. "Don't lose hope," he told me with quiet assurance, fixing his gaze upon my face. "He's not the first to be trapped in Davy Jones' locker, but he may be the first t' be freed from it." Something in the steadiness of his eyes and the quiet emphasis of his words worked like a soothing balm upon my heart.

"Then I want to help," I begged, hardly able to stand still for impatience. "Tell me what's needed and send me to do it - I can't stand idly by!"

Teague grasped my shoulder gently with thumb and forefinger and, just as he used to steer me when I was a small child, guided me to a seat at his table.

He shook his head. "T'is not for you to do," he admonished me firmly in the same calm voice. He stood looking down at me, waiting for a sign that I had accepted his words and put away ill-conceived notions of rescuing Jack myself.

I sat trying to conquer my own desperation, when an unexpected insight presented itself: in all the years I had known them, Teague had always been fiercely protective of his son, whilst permitting him maximum freedom. Indeed, I had seen a perfect example when Teague rescued us from the island where we were marooned. If he thought for one instant that Jack would not be rescued from Davy Jones' locker, I was certain that no power on earth would have kept him from his son's side. And yet, here he was, allowing others to take on the task. Therefore, he must know the outcome, I reasoned, and the wisest course was to do as he bade me. After a moment, I nodded, trusting that Jack would somehow, impossibly, be restored to us.