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

Jack Sparrow Returns

Chapter Twenty Five -- Jack Sparrow Returns

Descending the stairs as quietly as possible, I found Highcliffe's Great Hall silent and empty. Hanibal must have ordered all his men into Pencarren's streets, for the entire house seemed quite deserted. I slid cautiously around the half-open door of the library and slipped into the room.

There were perhaps a dozen tankards scattered about, and several fresh splashes of rum on Hanibal's desk. The floor was littered with a sheaf of loose papers that looked as though it had been dropped and trodden on – all signs that my uncle and his ruffians had departed in haste. I snatched up my letter to Barbossa and threw it on the fire; at least it would now be out of Hanibal's reach. Crossing the room, I found my bag still in the corner where Hanibal had thrown it.

I searched through my belongings quickly, retrieving my scimitar and wedging the Messenger badge securely under my bodice. Then I crouched down and stealthily began to load my pistols.

As I concentrated on the guns, I heard a sudden cry of "Hold yer fire!" from the direction of the door. Gun in hand, I jumped to my feet and turned to find Jack Sparrow in the act of entering the library, his pistol aimed at me. His eyes widened as soon as he saw my face, and he heaved a sigh of relief. The warning shout had come from the man standing just behind him, none other than Peter Dawes, an old gypsy friend from years ago.

"Bless my eyes!" Mr Dawes exclaimed. "If it edn't Young Nina!"

Jack lowered his pistol, carefully letting down the hammer and holstering the weapon. "Didn't see it was you, darlin'!" he said, and stepped forward to embrace me. "That was close!" He motioned to Mr Dawes. "I've rallied our friends, and we've done our bit to get Hanibal's little army out of Highcliffe, at least for the moment. Now we've to find the armoury keys."

"Clasp-knives and cutlasses ain't enough t' finish the dogs," said Mr Dawes. "A few muskets with bayonets would be more to my liking."

I nodded and explained my own business. "I'm looking for the same keys. We need to arm the Pearl's crew – they were captured and disarmed while I was at Plymouth." Then I drew Jack away from Mr Dawes' hearing.

"I have no proof," I told him in a low voice, "But I think my uncle is trafficking in supernatural matters. I'm afraid to think what it means if he has the Basilikon. I couldn't see it, but somehow I keep feeling that he's got it. He told me he took the Pearl using some sort of mystical fog – and I promise you he's no madder than I am. And he's taken my spancel."

As I spoke, I had to step lively to keep up with Jack, who was darting about, rummaging through drawers, boxes and chests. "He's got the town subjugated," I continued more urgently, as I tagged after him. "And the Pearl's crew are imprisoned in Williams' mill! There are batteries of cannon covering the harbour, two ships sailing under his colours, and a horde of murderous rogues doing his bidding!" I paused, waiting anxiously to hear my friend's plan.

"First things first, love!" he replied, continuing his search. Suddenly he gave a triumphant Aha! and spun about to face me. In his hand was a large ring of jangling keys. "And Hanibal's forgotten one thing," he added with a confident grin.

"What?" I asked, eager to learn of some extraordinary advantage, hitherto overlooked.

"I'm Captain ... Jack ... Sparrow!" he explained, with a great flourish.

Seeing me look somewhat mystified, he added, "An' he's up against me, Barbossa, me dad, an' you, Brat! If we can't stop him, who can?"

Who indeed, I wondered, but I returned Jack's smile and tried to look heartened.