Pirates of the Caribbean 04 The Sword of Cortes (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Jack felt blood rush to his head. Just weeks before, he had been held at the mercy of a race of creatures called merfolk--women who were half human and half, well, fish-things. Jack managed to strike a deal with the Scaly Tails, as he called them: he would be free to leave their lair, but must eventually return and turn over to them his greatest treasure. It was only after he agreed to these ter
ms that Jack realized what his
greatest treasure was--his freedom. Ironically, Jack had been set free on the condition that he would one day return to the merfolk as their captive or, presumably, be taken prisoner.And there was one more detail. At the time of his encounter with the merfolk, Jack had been in possession of the eye of the pirate Stone-Eyed Sam. However, before the merfolk released him, they had asked for collateral. To Jack, the eye didn't seem like much--nothing more than a memento of his first adventure with the Barnacle's crew. But the merfolk had
seemed mighty happy to have it.
And now Cortes wanted it, too."Now where would I find something as strange and obscure as a dead pirate's stone eye?" J
ack asked Cortes, brushing some
snow from his shoulders, trying to play it cool."I think you know," Cortes replied.So much for fooling this guy. Now Jack saw his dilemma. He had to somehow get back to the merfolk to reclaim the eye. But at the same time, he needed to figure out a way to avoid again becoming their prisoner. And how would he do that?Jack decided not to worry about it until he was face-to-face with the Scaly Tails. He would find a way out of the situation--and he'd figure it out when he needed to. Right
now, he had bigger fish to fry
so to speak."Fine, then. I'll go on a quest to retrieve this eye. But I'm going to need that there sword--what sometimes glows and does little things like make it snow in the Caribbean and create
rivers from valleys and such."

"I had no intention of sending you without it," Cortes answered."Brilliant. I'll just take this sword, then, gather my crew, and we'll be on our way.""No," Cortes said. "You are to take no one with you on this mission. It is something you must do alone. We cannot risk anyone interfering with our plans."

"'Our' plans?" Jack asked. "Sorry, mate, but this is your plan, not mine.""It's yours, as well. That is, if you want to wield the full power of the Sword."

"I can't say that I am entirely comfortable with this arrangement. After all, what is a captain without his crew? How is he to sail his ship?" Jack asked."You go alone, or the Sword--and all its power--will stay here," Cortes said. "He who possesses this sword needs no crew."Cortes
handed Jack the Sword and told
him to point it toward the Barnacle, which was safely docked on the unscathed side of the port. The little boat rocked on the waves. It was covered by a thin blanket of snow."Here you go again telling me what to do with this here sword," Jack snapped at Cortes. "One of these days I'm going to tell you what you can do with it!"

"Just do as I say. You won't regret it."Jack lifted the Sword and pointed it at his little fishing boat. And a fishing boat is all it really was--no matter how much he wanted to believe it was a great ship. His crewmate Fitzwilliam never missed an opportunity to remind Jack of that fact.But Jack had come to love that boat. And so he was not only shocked and shaken, but also hit with a great pang of grief, when both the bow and
the stern began to split. The
crack made its way up the center of the Barnacle, and finally the boat began to break in two. Bits of wood from the splintered deck flew through the air. Then, a series of blasts shook the sea. A cloud of smoke rose up around the docks where the boat had been
moored. What
have I done? Jack wondered with shock and
regret. Far
below in the snow-covered town, Arabella and Fitzwilliam ran from the inn where they'd taken shelter. They strained to see what had happened to their boat. And so did Jack.Then the cloud of dust and smoke began to clear. Through the veil of the snowfall, the Barnacle emerged. But it was no longer a wee fishing boat. It had been completely transformed.Jack sta
red out at the ship and smiled
proudly. GRAND BARNACLE was now painted across its broadside. The ship was so large it barely fit in the dock. It had become a glorious war vessel, fit with multiple decks and sails and cannons . . . cannons upon cannons upon cannons!"It suits you well, Jack Sparrow," Cortes said.Jack continued to stare, at a loss for words.Nearly.

"But if I'd have had difficulty sailing a boat on my own, how in the name of all that's blessed and blasted am I going to sail a ship?" he asked, getting a hold of himself.Cortes took the blade from Jack once again and tapped him on the shoulder with it. Jack felt a shock of energy run through him, stronger than any of the
previous jolts from the Sword.
"Now," Cortes said, "you have everything you need."Jack held the Sword up to the Grand Barnacle once more, and the huge sails of what was now the greatest warship ever to sai
l the Caribbean unfurled.

CHAPTER FOUR

Jack felt a rush of high energy as he raced down the snowy hillside toward Isla Fortuna's small town of Puerto San Judas. Down on the beaches, it was hard to tell where the white sand ended and the snow began. During his time as a stowaway, Jack had spent winter in colder places, but he had never seen a snowfall like this. It looked strange in the tropical setting. Instead of blanketing pines and barren o
aks, the snow
covering was piled on palm fronds and coconut groves. The surf near the shore was filled with chunks of icy slush. But only fifty feet out to sea, the thick cloud cover ended abruptly and the hot Caribbean sun shone down on the turquoise
water. The
town square of Puerto San Judas looked like something out of Charles Dicke
ns
that is, if Dickens had written stories about the Caribbean. At the far end of the town, near the docks, the chimney of the small inn spewed smoke. Arabella and Fitzwilliam were standing outside, wrapped in blankets and staring in wonder at the Grand Barnacle. Jack had come down from the hill. He did not intend to stop and speak to them as he walked through the town toward the great ship. But Arabella had a way of catching an
yone's ear, especially Jack's.
"So, that there's our ship, eh?" she asked Jack as he walked past the
inn. “If
you don't mind, milady, it's my ship, my sword, my adventure," Jack answered flatly, continuing his walk toward the Grand Barnacle.Arabella grabbed Jack by the arm and slapped him square across the face.Jack snarled and rubbed his cheek. "I didn't deserve that."

"Oh, yes, ye did, Jack. Ye deserve that and more," Arabella said. "I've had about enough of ye. A member of yer crew is dying and yer off hopping onto bedeviled ships and sailing away. Yer not the Jack we know, the Jack who--for whatever forsaken reason--we all trust.""Oh, I don't know what all this fuss is about," Jack said. "I told you that you are either in this with me or you're not. You chose your si
de. So now I'll bid you adieu,
farewell, ciao, sayonara, good-bye, and good riddance!"

"And how, pray tell, do you intend to sail a vessel such as the Grand Barnacle on your own?" Fitzwilliam asked."I have my ways, mate," Jack answered."It is impossible," Fitzwilliam responded. "A ship like that would require a crew of hundreds. You cannot do it on your own."

"Oh, no?" Jack said. "Watch me."Jack pointed the Sword at the Grand Barnacle and the gangplank lowered."Ta for now," Jack said as he ascended the plank. "I'll be seeing you soon. Don't go anywhere in the meantime. Oh, wait, that's right. You can't go anywhere. There's not a boat left in the port."

"You will regret your leaving us, Jack Sparrow," Fitzwilliam said, sh
aking his hand up at the boat.
"I regret nothing, ever," Jack said as he pointed the Sword at the gangplank to lift it. Then he waved the Sword toward the lines and anchor that held the great ship at dock. Both the lines and the anchor snapped back toward the ship, like snakes recoiling from fire. The Grand Barnacle slowly moved away from the snowy port and into the sunny heat of the Caribbean Sea. Jack waved his bandanna mockingly at Fitzwilliam and Arabella as the ship pulled out. And as the figures of his land-bound crew grew smaller and smaller, and finally disappeared in the distance, Jack Sparrow fought to quell
any regrets he might have.
Jack found sailing the Grand Barnacle a breeze, if a little lonely. He discovered he could make the ship spin just by whirling the Sword
in the air above his head. He
could steer it, just by pointing the Sword in the direction he wished to sail. He could even adjust the rigging and raise and lower the sails, simply by waving the Sword.

Sailing such a big ship alone should have been impossible--and "impossible" was just the sort of feat Jack loved. But none of this was very challenging at all.When he grew tired from the hot sun, he waved the Sword at the clear sky overhead and willed some clouds to roll in. When he grew hungry, he waved the Sword at the sea and bushels of crabs sprang out of the water and onto the ship's upper decks. By waving it again, they were prepared exactly as Jack liked them--steamed and buttered.Still, the silence was profound. Jack fought his feelings, but found it difficult. He wished Arabella were there to make smart remarks. Or that Tumen and
Jean
were chasing that cursed cat Constance around the deck. He even wished Fitzwilliam was
on board
to argue with him about the course he was charting.Which was another matter to consider-- what course was he charting? Isla Sirena, where the merfolk dwelled, resided not in the Caribbean, but in Davy Jones's locker-- a place few knew about firsthand, but the sailors' stories did not make it sound pleasant. The island emerged out from the dark depths of Jones's realm only occasionally and, it seemed to Jack, with no rhyme or reason. How was he supposed to find an island from another
realm? “Well
," Jack said to himself, "the Scaly Tails found me easily enough last time. I suppose the best thing to do is sail to a place where there is no land in sight and just wait. Easier
for an island to drop in, when
there's not an obstacle in the way," Jack reasoned.Jack pointed the Sword at the sails, and a gust of wind filled them. The Grand Barnacle sped far out into the Caribbean waters. After some time, Jack found himself in a part of the Caribbean
Sea where he could see no land
not the sli
ghtest indication of an island
in any direction."Guess I'll just wait here, then," Jack said.

He walked over to the broadside of the huge ship and stared out to the sea. It was calm, disrupted only by fish breaking the surface now and then. Jack heard nothing but the lapping of the waves and the occasional caw of a seabird. The sounds of the sea and the rocking of the boat were so relaxing that Jack's eyelids grew heavy, and he found it difficult to fight sleep.When he
heard a voice call out to him,
he was not sure if it was an actual person he was hearing or merely a fragment of a dream. He rubbed his sleepy eyes. They focused and then popped wide open as he realized this was not a dream at all. Not thirty feet away was a British naval warship, almost as huge as the Grand Barnacle."You there!" the ship's commodore called out to Jack from the forecastle of the naval vessel. "We have no record of your ship's registration. You are sailing unauthorized in British waters. Surrender now, or we will have no choice but to force you to do so-
-by any means necessary."

CHAPTER FIVE

"Gentlemen," Jack called out, "you're making a mistake. I am simply passing through these here waters. Just give me a brief moment and I'll be on my way."

"Surrender, now," the commodore called back. "And tell your captain and crew to come out from below deck and surrender as well."

"Captain? Crew? Sirs, I am the captain, and
I have no crew," Jack replied.
The Royal Navy crew laughed
condescendingly. “Look
, gents," Jack said, "This is all one big
misunderstanding. “It
is you who misunderstands," the commodore hollered back, cutting Jack off. "We are commandeering your ship. And once we do, you, and the crew and commander you are
harbouring
, will answer a number of questions for us."Jack laughed and threw up his arms. "Questions? What questions could you possibly have for me?"The commodore shouted back, "Only the obvious ones: how did it come to be that the greatest warship ever to sail the Caribbean escaped notice until now? Where did said warship, unknown to the Royal Navy, and, worse, the Crown, come from? How could a boy as scrawny
and frail as yourself possibly
be sailing a ship like this on his own?" He added an even sharper note of condescension to his last
question.

"Boy? Scrawny? Frail?
What!?" Jack shouted indignantly, looking down self-consciously at his lean chest.

"Men," the commodore continued, "prepare to board this ship. And take no
prisoners. Jack
sighed and rolled his eyes. "I have told you already, there is no one on this ship but 'the boy,' however 'scrawny and frail' he might be!"

"No time for tall tales," the commodore shouted. "We're coming aboard."Jack felt a sudden burst of anger erupt inside him. He straightened his back. "I am warning you, men, do not attempt to board this ship."