Harry & the Pirate IV: The Chalice of St. Francis
Chapter Four: Welcome to Port Royal
Admiral James Norrington stood at ease on the battlements of Fort Charles, overlooking the sparkling harbor at Port Royal, Jamaica, and reflected on the changes that had taken place during the last eight years, changes which allowed him to view the approach of a notorious pirate ship with happy anticipation rather than the disapprobation of a naval officer whose career had been devoted to the protection of the people and lands of the Caribbean, an objective necessarily associated with the containment of the violent, unprincipled, blackhearted scoundrels who commonly manned such vessels.
Not that Jack Sparrow wasn’t a pirate, and his Black Pearl less than the epitome of a pirate ship. But violent? Well, the man was certainly capable of violence, but Norrington knew from both hearsay and first hand experience that Jack resorted to physical force only if other options had proven futile. Unprincipled didn’t fit, either. Jack had principles. In some instances they even coincided with those of general society. Blackhearted, too, was a poor adjective for a man whose bark was nearly always worse than his bite (though Jack could surprise one, and had, on occasion, occasions that usually turned out to the advantage of all, and particularly to Jack, of course). But then there was the fourth epithet: scoundrel. Yes. That suited Jack Sparrow. And trickster, and rascal, too. Skilled deception, and a merry thumbing-of-the-nose to authority, were the man’s raisons d'etre, the very essence of what Pirate meant to him, and James knew Jack would have objected in the strongest terms to the exclusion of the title from his résumé.
Fortunately, he also tolerated that of Privateer for the British Crown.
Originally Jack had deigned to give this nod to respectability solely for the sake of the one woman who had managed to hold his historically fleeting interest for longer than a few weeks: Henrietta Fanshawe, née Swann, Dowager Duchess of Wyndham and sister to Weatherby Swann, Governor of Port Royal. A bird both rich and rare, and pretty and roguish as…well, as Jack himself. Norrington gave a slight snort of laughter, and shook his head. Foolish beyond permission, the two of them. Yet it was perhaps understandable that, after a week of hair-raising adventures involving timely escapes from Worse Than Death, the two had embarked on an affaire that was (from all reports) intensely passionate and uncommonly blissful. There was, however, nothing uncommon about the outcome: exactly what anyone but the two besotted participants might have expected. A slight fracas had ensued, resulting in Jack’s application for a Letter of Marque, a hastily arranged wedding, and, seven months later, the timely debut of the couple’s little son, Thomas Jackson Sparrow.
Norrington, who had previously done his best to curtail the pirate’s career at the end of a rope, had ultimately played an integral role in obtaining the Letter for Jack, had been invited to and attended the wedding (which had been charming, in spite of the haste of the arrangements), and had even been on hand to lend support to the new father on the night of the birth: the little mother had come through unscathed, but James feared Jack had been marked for life by the tense hours leading up to the happy event.
In subsequent years, Jack had continued to coddle and worry over his wife, to her fond exasperation and to everyone else’s amusement, and had shown himself to be, in many ways, an exemplary husband and father. He had also justified that Letter many times over. James doubted whether Jack felt any more loyalty to the crown now than he had ever done, but his skill as a ship’s captain and leader of men could not be doubted and the crown had certainly benefited, as had many others, including Norrington himself. Yes, he and Jack had seen adventures of all sorts during the last eight years, some joyous, some so grim they were truly dreadful to recall, and the result was a mutual respect and friendship that had grown with each passing year, factors that Norrington liked to think contributed to Jack’s apparent reconciliation to his career as an English privateer.
“Sir! They’re coming! Can you see them?”
Norrington turned and smiled at his son, Midshipman Charles Holliday Norrington, trotting up the steps to stand beside him. At eighteen the boy was nearly his own height, the golden hair and smiling blue eyes were his mother’s, and the open expression of happiness edged with mischief was all his own.
“Yes. Here.” Norrington handed his son the spyglass.
Charles looked, eagerly, giving an exclamation of delight as he spotted the ship. “There’s Owens, with Tom on his shoulder, and Jack’s at the helm! Shall we go down to the docks? With this breeze, it won’t be much longer.”
“No, it won’t. Go and tell the ladies: they are waiting in my office.”
“Yes, sir! And I shall call up the carriage.”
Charles disappeared, pounding down the steps two at a time. James, smiling, followed more slowly, leaning on his cane until his leg eased once more into the motion of walking. He barely needed the prop now, and thought perhaps he would discard it entirely when they reached the dock to greet the arrivals. Jack would be pleased that his torturous efforts to preserve James’ life and limb had met with such success.
* * *
Pleased was too mild a word. He was positively gloating.
“James! Not even a limp! Harry! Would you feast your eyes: the Admiral is once again intact, thanks to my modest efforts.”
Norrington rolled his eyes, though he smiled, too, as he walked, unaided, toward the couple. Negotiating the gangplank had been a little painful, but on the level deck he was quite able to present the appearance of one who was physically whole.
Jack came up and clapped him on the shoulder, and said, as Harry embraced him, “See? Told you it was worth all that pain and bother. And now twin boys to show for it, too, you old devil!”
“Yes, that’s why Margaret insisted on naming the both of you Godparents, isn’t it?” said Norrington, wryly, but with a warm glow in his eyes. He looked at Harry, who was beaming up at him. “How is it you and your disreputable husband look younger and more beautiful every time I see you?”
Harry laughed, but Jack said, “Ah, the wicked flourish like the green bay tree, do they not? It’s in the Bible: must be true.”
Norrington shook his head, sadly. “It certainly appears so, though I must say we could all do with more of such wickedness. It is very good to see you.”
“The sentiment is quite mutual, Jamie,” Jack grinned, “and more so now that the results of my handiwork are obvious to all. Maggie must be right pleased!”
“Yes, well, twin boys, you know,” said James, and was quite unable to hide his pride and happiness.
“How is she, James?” Harry asked. “And the babies? Are they well?”
“They could hardly be better! The doctor says they are large, for twins, though they seem much smaller than our little Anne was at birth. But Margaret is very well-almost too well, for she tries to do too much. I can very much relate to your sentiments on that score, at present, Jack.”
“Aye, I thought you might,” agreed Jack, and glanced sidelong at Harry as he added, “Life’d be a great deal easier if they’d just stay atop their pedestals, where they belong.” He grinned as she wrinkled her nose at him.
But she said to James, “Well, now I am here, and will make her keep me entertained, which will involve a great deal of rest, and the taking of cool drinks in the shade of your lovely garden.”
“An excellent plan,” agreed the Admiral. “But what have we here?” His eyes twinkled as a newcomer came to stand between Jack and Harry. “A Young Sparrow, as I live!”
Tom gave a self-collected little bow, and said, “How do you do, sir?”
James could not help chuckling. “Very well, I thank you. Jack, he is the image of you!”
Tom grinned in delight at this, but his father scowled and gave his scion a narrow look. “He is, an’ he’ll be the death o’ me, too! Cheeky young varmint, lookin’ the Admiral of the Fleet right in the eye.”
“Oh, dear,” James said, “Do I sense a tale in the offing?”
“Oh, nothin’ out o’ the ordinary,” said Jack with assumed airiness. “Darin’ rescue at sea, in the teeth of a squall that was like to send us to visit Davy Jones.”
“Really?” Norrington frowned. “I saw the repair to your foremast. Was it due to the storm? And what’s this about a rescue?”
“Da’ fished me out when I fell off the rail!” said Tom, with every evidence of pleasure at the memory of being half-drowned in such excellent company.
“Good God!” exclaimed the Admiral.
“Yes,” continued Tom, “and then the squall caught us and broke the mast, and we went to the island, and that’s when we found Father Taddeo! He’s blind! Only Da’ thrashed me anyway.” Tom scowled briefly, and had the grace to look at least a little ashamed.
James laughed. “It sounds as though you are fortunate to be alive to tell of it! But you startle me: I was under the impression that your father is the gentlest and most indulgent of parents.” James lifted a brow at Jack, and smirked.
Jack growled, “I found it surprisingly easy to do, for all that, and considering the circumstances it’s no wonder. And there’ll be more where that came from, Young Imp, if you don’t watch yourself. Where’s Owens?”
“Making sheep’s eyes at Susanna down on the dock,” Tom said, with a slight grimace. “An’ Julietta’s there too, so I came back aboard. She wanted to kiss me!”
Jack chuckled. “Naughty wench! But you’ll need to become accustomed, Imp: the price of bein’ a Sparrow, savvy?”
“Good heavens,” said Norrington, then called, “Miss Maria! If you please?”
The nurse, who had been happily conversing with Mr. Gibbs by the railing, came over with alacrity, and curtsied (with some condescension) to Captain and Mrs. Sparrow.
“It is very good to see you again, Miss Maria!” said Harry, with a smile.
“Aye,” said Jack, “Gibbs has been actin’ like a right mooncalf for the last two weeks, but I see y’ found him straight off and put him out of his misery.”
The Nurse stiffened, reddening, but Norrington said, smoothly, “Yes, perhaps you and Mr. Gibbs could tell the young ladies and gentlemen to come aboard. We shan’t be leaving for the house until Captain Sparrow is ready, and I gather there is an unexpected guest he would like me to meet: one Father Taddeo?”
“Sharp lad, Admiral,” smiled Jack.
“Father Taddeo Angelini of Asissi,” Harry confirmed. “Yes, you must come below, and meet him. Tom: go with Nurse Maria and be on your best behavior!”
“But Julietta!” whined Tom, in great fear of kisses.
But Mr. Gibbs said, “Never fear, Tom lad, I’ll protect you from bein’ ravished, Sparrow or no,” and, taking Nurse Maria’s arm, winked at his captain.
* * *
James had been looking out the window of the carriage, while Jack and Harry conversed quietly on the opposite seat, but now he turned to them. “I find it extraordinary that a Spanish Don would do such a thing to a man of God, and one of his own denomination at that!”
Harry nodded, but Jack shrugged. “Do you not know of the atrocities visited on supposed heretics in the Don’s native country?”
James frowned. “I do, of course.”
“But our people are no better at times!” Harry pointed out. “The ignorant and fanatical will always be apt to evil. Torturing and killing in the name of God: it is quite beyond my understanding.”
“Perhaps they’ve a greater faith than you,” Jack said sarcastically.
“If that is what great faith involves I want none of it!” declared Harry. “But I cannot believe that such actions are inspired by a love of God.”
“No, you are very right,” agreed James, “Though this particular incident may have been inspired by simple avarice.”
“Yes. Or a desire for miracles. Father Taddeo seems to think the chalice is a relic of some power.”
“Oh, all those orders and cathedrals have relics of some sort,” said Jack dismissively. “A major source of income for ‘em! ‘View the jawbone of the saint and be healed: only a guinea!’”
Norrington observed to Harry, “This from a man who fought the undead.”
“Indeed!” agreed Harry, smiling at Jack’s grimace.
“Aye, well, there is that. I suppose a miraculous saint’s cup is no stranger than cursed Aztec treasure. But the Don’s motives are likely more to do with gold than God.”
“But Father Taddeo’s are not!” said Harry. “How are we to help him?”
“Who says we’re going to?” her husband replied, coolly.
Harry stared. “But Jack!”
“That he’s alive is due to our efforts, isn’t it? Risking our necks to retrieve that cup seems a bit much to ask. And you’re stayin’ out of it, in any case.”
Harry bridled, and opened her mouth to object, but James interrupted, saying, “As it happens, retrieving the cup may not be as difficult as you anticipate, and your wife’s presence might actually enhance the safety of the process.”
“What?” Jack said, sharply. “I ain’t puttin’ Harry in harm’s way for any money, so don’t bloody encourage her. God’s teeth, James, would you take Maggie into the lion’s den?”
Norrington’s subdued his amusement at Jack’s vehemence. “I would take her, were she not still recovering from her confinement. However, it is not a lion’s den, per se, merely a diplomatic summit, which has been arranged to take advantage of the precarious peace we find ourselves enjoying at this present. By strange coincidence, it is to be held in Santiago, at the estate of the Viceroy, one Don Rodrigo de Esparza, in two weeks. Ambassadors from many islands will be attending, representing every nation with holdings in the Caribbean. And I, myself, am included in the delegation from Jamaica.”
Harry clapped her hands together. “Oh, James! It is as though it was meant to be! Instead of taking the Dauntless, we can disguise the Black Pearl and take you ourselves, and retrieve the cup during the summit!”
Jack could be seen to grind his teeth. “Oh, aye, they’ll welcome a notorious privateer and his wife with open arms!”
But James said, calmly, “Your concern for your lovely wife seems to have impeded your imagination, Jack. You have only to assume a false identity for the occasion. I can see no difficulty: you both have sufficient skill to carry off such a deception.”
This remark, appealing as it did to both Jack’s vanity and his ready sense of adventure, assuaged his annoyance, though he still directed a pointed look at his wife. “All right, maybe it’s worth considering, but I see no need to drag Harry into it.”
“You are very right,” James said, and smiled at Harry’s sudden look of dismay. “However, many of the ambassadors will be bringing their wives, so it would not be considered at all out of the ordinary, and might, indeed, attract attention away from you and your efforts to retrieve the chalice.”
“You see!” Harry exclaimed, vastly pleased. “Oh, Jack! Please let me come: I promise I’ll do exactly as you say, and be very careful. Oh, what fun it will be!”
Jack looked daggers at James. “Now see what you’ve done? Bloody hell! I suppose this is to pay me back for forcing excruciating medical aid on your helpless self, just to save Maggie bein’ a widow again.”
James raised a brow, and was unable to subdue a slight smirk as he said, “Was that why you did it? I quite thought it had something to do with the fact that I nearly succeeded in hanging you, once upon a time.”
Jack said, with a wolfish grin, “Oh, aye, that thought kept me hand steady, certainly.” But then he shook his head, the smile fading in remembrance of the horrifying scene, and of the terrible days and nights that followed, when James’ life hung in the balance.
James saw the look in his friend’s eyes, and his own amusement faded. He said, gently, “I would not suggest taking Harry if I thought it unsafe, Jack. But it is your decision to make.”
“Yes,” said Harry, taking her husband’s hand, “but please…at least consider it!”
Jack looked at her, outwardly submissive, but with a fire at the back of it that he recognized all too readily.
“Well, wife,” he said, in a low growl of anticipation and amusement, “we shall have some few days of interesting encounters as you try to persuade me, will we not?”
Harry grinned, and, ignoring the admiral’s interested presence, kissed Jack, then slid her cheek against his and whispered, “Oh, yes!”
~.~
On to Chapter Five
Admiral James Norrington stood at ease on the battlements of Fort Charles, overlooking the sparkling harbor at Port Royal, Jamaica, and reflected on the changes that had taken place during the last eight years, changes which allowed him to view the approach of a notorious pirate ship with happy anticipation rather than the disapprobation of a naval officer whose career had been devoted to the protection of the people and lands of the Caribbean, an objective necessarily associated with the containment of the violent, unprincipled, blackhearted scoundrels who commonly manned such vessels.
Not that Jack Sparrow wasn’t a pirate, and his Black Pearl less than the epitome of a pirate ship. But violent? Well, the man was certainly capable of violence, but Norrington knew from both hearsay and first hand experience that Jack resorted to physical force only if other options had proven futile. Unprincipled didn’t fit, either. Jack had principles. In some instances they even coincided with those of general society. Blackhearted, too, was a poor adjective for a man whose bark was nearly always worse than his bite (though Jack could surprise one, and had, on occasion, occasions that usually turned out to the advantage of all, and particularly to Jack, of course). But then there was the fourth epithet: scoundrel. Yes. That suited Jack Sparrow. And trickster, and rascal, too. Skilled deception, and a merry thumbing-of-the-nose to authority, were the man’s raisons d'etre, the very essence of what Pirate meant to him, and James knew Jack would have objected in the strongest terms to the exclusion of the title from his résumé.
Fortunately, he also tolerated that of Privateer for the British Crown.
Originally Jack had deigned to give this nod to respectability solely for the sake of the one woman who had managed to hold his historically fleeting interest for longer than a few weeks: Henrietta Fanshawe, née Swann, Dowager Duchess of Wyndham and sister to Weatherby Swann, Governor of Port Royal. A bird both rich and rare, and pretty and roguish as…well, as Jack himself. Norrington gave a slight snort of laughter, and shook his head. Foolish beyond permission, the two of them. Yet it was perhaps understandable that, after a week of hair-raising adventures involving timely escapes from Worse Than Death, the two had embarked on an affaire that was (from all reports) intensely passionate and uncommonly blissful. There was, however, nothing uncommon about the outcome: exactly what anyone but the two besotted participants might have expected. A slight fracas had ensued, resulting in Jack’s application for a Letter of Marque, a hastily arranged wedding, and, seven months later, the timely debut of the couple’s little son, Thomas Jackson Sparrow.
Norrington, who had previously done his best to curtail the pirate’s career at the end of a rope, had ultimately played an integral role in obtaining the Letter for Jack, had been invited to and attended the wedding (which had been charming, in spite of the haste of the arrangements), and had even been on hand to lend support to the new father on the night of the birth: the little mother had come through unscathed, but James feared Jack had been marked for life by the tense hours leading up to the happy event.
In subsequent years, Jack had continued to coddle and worry over his wife, to her fond exasperation and to everyone else’s amusement, and had shown himself to be, in many ways, an exemplary husband and father. He had also justified that Letter many times over. James doubted whether Jack felt any more loyalty to the crown now than he had ever done, but his skill as a ship’s captain and leader of men could not be doubted and the crown had certainly benefited, as had many others, including Norrington himself. Yes, he and Jack had seen adventures of all sorts during the last eight years, some joyous, some so grim they were truly dreadful to recall, and the result was a mutual respect and friendship that had grown with each passing year, factors that Norrington liked to think contributed to Jack’s apparent reconciliation to his career as an English privateer.
“Sir! They’re coming! Can you see them?”
Norrington turned and smiled at his son, Midshipman Charles Holliday Norrington, trotting up the steps to stand beside him. At eighteen the boy was nearly his own height, the golden hair and smiling blue eyes were his mother’s, and the open expression of happiness edged with mischief was all his own.
“Yes. Here.” Norrington handed his son the spyglass.
Charles looked, eagerly, giving an exclamation of delight as he spotted the ship. “There’s Owens, with Tom on his shoulder, and Jack’s at the helm! Shall we go down to the docks? With this breeze, it won’t be much longer.”
“No, it won’t. Go and tell the ladies: they are waiting in my office.”
“Yes, sir! And I shall call up the carriage.”
Charles disappeared, pounding down the steps two at a time. James, smiling, followed more slowly, leaning on his cane until his leg eased once more into the motion of walking. He barely needed the prop now, and thought perhaps he would discard it entirely when they reached the dock to greet the arrivals. Jack would be pleased that his torturous efforts to preserve James’ life and limb had met with such success.
* * *
Pleased was too mild a word. He was positively gloating.
“James! Not even a limp! Harry! Would you feast your eyes: the Admiral is once again intact, thanks to my modest efforts.”
Norrington rolled his eyes, though he smiled, too, as he walked, unaided, toward the couple. Negotiating the gangplank had been a little painful, but on the level deck he was quite able to present the appearance of one who was physically whole.
Jack came up and clapped him on the shoulder, and said, as Harry embraced him, “See? Told you it was worth all that pain and bother. And now twin boys to show for it, too, you old devil!”
“Yes, that’s why Margaret insisted on naming the both of you Godparents, isn’t it?” said Norrington, wryly, but with a warm glow in his eyes. He looked at Harry, who was beaming up at him. “How is it you and your disreputable husband look younger and more beautiful every time I see you?”
Harry laughed, but Jack said, “Ah, the wicked flourish like the green bay tree, do they not? It’s in the Bible: must be true.”
Norrington shook his head, sadly. “It certainly appears so, though I must say we could all do with more of such wickedness. It is very good to see you.”
“The sentiment is quite mutual, Jamie,” Jack grinned, “and more so now that the results of my handiwork are obvious to all. Maggie must be right pleased!”
“Yes, well, twin boys, you know,” said James, and was quite unable to hide his pride and happiness.
“How is she, James?” Harry asked. “And the babies? Are they well?”
“They could hardly be better! The doctor says they are large, for twins, though they seem much smaller than our little Anne was at birth. But Margaret is very well-almost too well, for she tries to do too much. I can very much relate to your sentiments on that score, at present, Jack.”
“Aye, I thought you might,” agreed Jack, and glanced sidelong at Harry as he added, “Life’d be a great deal easier if they’d just stay atop their pedestals, where they belong.” He grinned as she wrinkled her nose at him.
But she said to James, “Well, now I am here, and will make her keep me entertained, which will involve a great deal of rest, and the taking of cool drinks in the shade of your lovely garden.”
“An excellent plan,” agreed the Admiral. “But what have we here?” His eyes twinkled as a newcomer came to stand between Jack and Harry. “A Young Sparrow, as I live!”
Tom gave a self-collected little bow, and said, “How do you do, sir?”
James could not help chuckling. “Very well, I thank you. Jack, he is the image of you!”
Tom grinned in delight at this, but his father scowled and gave his scion a narrow look. “He is, an’ he’ll be the death o’ me, too! Cheeky young varmint, lookin’ the Admiral of the Fleet right in the eye.”
“Oh, dear,” James said, “Do I sense a tale in the offing?”
“Oh, nothin’ out o’ the ordinary,” said Jack with assumed airiness. “Darin’ rescue at sea, in the teeth of a squall that was like to send us to visit Davy Jones.”
“Really?” Norrington frowned. “I saw the repair to your foremast. Was it due to the storm? And what’s this about a rescue?”
“Da’ fished me out when I fell off the rail!” said Tom, with every evidence of pleasure at the memory of being half-drowned in such excellent company.
“Good God!” exclaimed the Admiral.
“Yes,” continued Tom, “and then the squall caught us and broke the mast, and we went to the island, and that’s when we found Father Taddeo! He’s blind! Only Da’ thrashed me anyway.” Tom scowled briefly, and had the grace to look at least a little ashamed.
James laughed. “It sounds as though you are fortunate to be alive to tell of it! But you startle me: I was under the impression that your father is the gentlest and most indulgent of parents.” James lifted a brow at Jack, and smirked.
Jack growled, “I found it surprisingly easy to do, for all that, and considering the circumstances it’s no wonder. And there’ll be more where that came from, Young Imp, if you don’t watch yourself. Where’s Owens?”
“Making sheep’s eyes at Susanna down on the dock,” Tom said, with a slight grimace. “An’ Julietta’s there too, so I came back aboard. She wanted to kiss me!”
Jack chuckled. “Naughty wench! But you’ll need to become accustomed, Imp: the price of bein’ a Sparrow, savvy?”
“Good heavens,” said Norrington, then called, “Miss Maria! If you please?”
The nurse, who had been happily conversing with Mr. Gibbs by the railing, came over with alacrity, and curtsied (with some condescension) to Captain and Mrs. Sparrow.
“It is very good to see you again, Miss Maria!” said Harry, with a smile.
“Aye,” said Jack, “Gibbs has been actin’ like a right mooncalf for the last two weeks, but I see y’ found him straight off and put him out of his misery.”
The Nurse stiffened, reddening, but Norrington said, smoothly, “Yes, perhaps you and Mr. Gibbs could tell the young ladies and gentlemen to come aboard. We shan’t be leaving for the house until Captain Sparrow is ready, and I gather there is an unexpected guest he would like me to meet: one Father Taddeo?”
“Sharp lad, Admiral,” smiled Jack.
“Father Taddeo Angelini of Asissi,” Harry confirmed. “Yes, you must come below, and meet him. Tom: go with Nurse Maria and be on your best behavior!”
“But Julietta!” whined Tom, in great fear of kisses.
But Mr. Gibbs said, “Never fear, Tom lad, I’ll protect you from bein’ ravished, Sparrow or no,” and, taking Nurse Maria’s arm, winked at his captain.
* * *
James had been looking out the window of the carriage, while Jack and Harry conversed quietly on the opposite seat, but now he turned to them. “I find it extraordinary that a Spanish Don would do such a thing to a man of God, and one of his own denomination at that!”
Harry nodded, but Jack shrugged. “Do you not know of the atrocities visited on supposed heretics in the Don’s native country?”
James frowned. “I do, of course.”
“But our people are no better at times!” Harry pointed out. “The ignorant and fanatical will always be apt to evil. Torturing and killing in the name of God: it is quite beyond my understanding.”
“Perhaps they’ve a greater faith than you,” Jack said sarcastically.
“If that is what great faith involves I want none of it!” declared Harry. “But I cannot believe that such actions are inspired by a love of God.”
“No, you are very right,” agreed James, “Though this particular incident may have been inspired by simple avarice.”
“Yes. Or a desire for miracles. Father Taddeo seems to think the chalice is a relic of some power.”
“Oh, all those orders and cathedrals have relics of some sort,” said Jack dismissively. “A major source of income for ‘em! ‘View the jawbone of the saint and be healed: only a guinea!’”
Norrington observed to Harry, “This from a man who fought the undead.”
“Indeed!” agreed Harry, smiling at Jack’s grimace.
“Aye, well, there is that. I suppose a miraculous saint’s cup is no stranger than cursed Aztec treasure. But the Don’s motives are likely more to do with gold than God.”
“But Father Taddeo’s are not!” said Harry. “How are we to help him?”
“Who says we’re going to?” her husband replied, coolly.
Harry stared. “But Jack!”
“That he’s alive is due to our efforts, isn’t it? Risking our necks to retrieve that cup seems a bit much to ask. And you’re stayin’ out of it, in any case.”
Harry bridled, and opened her mouth to object, but James interrupted, saying, “As it happens, retrieving the cup may not be as difficult as you anticipate, and your wife’s presence might actually enhance the safety of the process.”
“What?” Jack said, sharply. “I ain’t puttin’ Harry in harm’s way for any money, so don’t bloody encourage her. God’s teeth, James, would you take Maggie into the lion’s den?”
Norrington’s subdued his amusement at Jack’s vehemence. “I would take her, were she not still recovering from her confinement. However, it is not a lion’s den, per se, merely a diplomatic summit, which has been arranged to take advantage of the precarious peace we find ourselves enjoying at this present. By strange coincidence, it is to be held in Santiago, at the estate of the Viceroy, one Don Rodrigo de Esparza, in two weeks. Ambassadors from many islands will be attending, representing every nation with holdings in the Caribbean. And I, myself, am included in the delegation from Jamaica.”
Harry clapped her hands together. “Oh, James! It is as though it was meant to be! Instead of taking the Dauntless, we can disguise the Black Pearl and take you ourselves, and retrieve the cup during the summit!”
Jack could be seen to grind his teeth. “Oh, aye, they’ll welcome a notorious privateer and his wife with open arms!”
But James said, calmly, “Your concern for your lovely wife seems to have impeded your imagination, Jack. You have only to assume a false identity for the occasion. I can see no difficulty: you both have sufficient skill to carry off such a deception.”
This remark, appealing as it did to both Jack’s vanity and his ready sense of adventure, assuaged his annoyance, though he still directed a pointed look at his wife. “All right, maybe it’s worth considering, but I see no need to drag Harry into it.”
“You are very right,” James said, and smiled at Harry’s sudden look of dismay. “However, many of the ambassadors will be bringing their wives, so it would not be considered at all out of the ordinary, and might, indeed, attract attention away from you and your efforts to retrieve the chalice.”
“You see!” Harry exclaimed, vastly pleased. “Oh, Jack! Please let me come: I promise I’ll do exactly as you say, and be very careful. Oh, what fun it will be!”
Jack looked daggers at James. “Now see what you’ve done? Bloody hell! I suppose this is to pay me back for forcing excruciating medical aid on your helpless self, just to save Maggie bein’ a widow again.”
James raised a brow, and was unable to subdue a slight smirk as he said, “Was that why you did it? I quite thought it had something to do with the fact that I nearly succeeded in hanging you, once upon a time.”
Jack said, with a wolfish grin, “Oh, aye, that thought kept me hand steady, certainly.” But then he shook his head, the smile fading in remembrance of the horrifying scene, and of the terrible days and nights that followed, when James’ life hung in the balance.
James saw the look in his friend’s eyes, and his own amusement faded. He said, gently, “I would not suggest taking Harry if I thought it unsafe, Jack. But it is your decision to make.”
“Yes,” said Harry, taking her husband’s hand, “but please…at least consider it!”
Jack looked at her, outwardly submissive, but with a fire at the back of it that he recognized all too readily.
“Well, wife,” he said, in a low growl of anticipation and amusement, “we shall have some few days of interesting encounters as you try to persuade me, will we not?”
Harry grinned, and, ignoring the admiral’s interested presence, kissed Jack, then slid her cheek against his and whispered, “Oh, yes!”
~.~
On to Chapter Five