Chosen Path

After three months at sea, Elizabeth had begun to feel as though she had never left the Pearl. William took easily to sea life, whether fishing with Ragetti, chasing Jack the Monkey, or attempting to imitate Barbossa at the helm. Elizabeth struggled to keep William away from the Captain, and Barbossa, for his part, managed not to howl at him. The rest of the crew, though, soon followed Ragetti’s lead, all taking a turn in looking after the boy.



But in three months, they had plundered but two ships, including the one on which Elizabeth arrived. The crew grew restless, and Ragetti’s words about plotting a treasure hunt rang in Elizabeth’s ears.



Elizabeth rummaged through her satchel and found a prize she had kept from her stint at the tavern. When she entered Barbossa’s cabin to work out their position and heading, she tucked the sheets of parchment under Barbossa’s charts until she had finished.



As she was finishing the ship’s log for the day, Barbossa entered and took a seat beside her. Elizabeth blew on the ink in the book. “I’m nearly through here. Do we need a new heading?”



Barbossa steepled his fingers then rested a hand over hers. She turned to him as she laid her quill down.



“I know yeh’ve already been named a Captain, and a King to boot, but yer not Captain on this ship.”



Elizabeth frowned. “I’ve never argued that point. Is there a problem, Captain Barbossa?”



“Never had a First Mate before. Seems yeh’ve taken on the position, though, in all but title. Fancy the title, Captain Swann?”



Elizabeth blinked, a smile forming slowly. “Are you certain that’s wise, Captain Barbossa? Jack warned me about First Mates, dangerous sort.”



Barbossa grinned, understanding. “Say I trust ye.”



Elizabeth’s flirtatious smile faded as the weight of his words fell upon her. “Will you still call me Captain, Captain?”



“Aye, if yeh like. Long as there be no disputin’ the Captaincy of this ship.”



“As I said, I’ve never argued that point. I accept. Thank you, Captain Barbossa.”



Barbossa nodded. “Our heading, Captain Swann?”



“Actually, Captain, I thought perhaps…well, we haven’t had much luck in these waters.”



“Not takin’ ye to Singapore.”



“No, something else.” Elizabeth shifted the charts to pull the folded parchment she had hidden beneath. Barbossa leaned close as she unfolded them, revealing a new set of charts.



“Treasure map?”



Elizabeth nodded, and selected a chart of the Caribbean, indicating a point on land on the southeast coast of Cuba.



“Castillo del Morro. Have you heard of it, Captain?”



“Aye. More legends. Castle’s a fortress, guarding the riches of the Spanish conquistadores. It’s nigh impossible to broach her defenses by sea, and by land, she’s a right labyrinth. Many a good pirate fell trying to chase that treasure. Madness it be, to try for it.”



Elizabeth turned to him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Madness, indeed. As it is madness to seek an island that cannot be found in search of cursed Aztec gold, or to attempt a voyage to World’s End. We are no strangers to madness, Captain. I hardly expect we’ll be bested by mere stone walls.”



Barbossa leaned across the table as she spread the other charts, smoothing the wrinkles. One of the maps indicated a route to the castle; another gave a map of the dungeons below. They warned of danger, but also promised riches beyond their dreams. Barbossa eyed the charts, then turned a querying eye on her.



“Where’d yeh be gettin’ these from, Missy?”



“Beg pardon?” At Barbossa’s confused squint, she clarified her irritation. “Missy?”



Barbossa rolled his eyes. “Apologies, Captain. Where’d yeh find the charts?”



Elizabeth straightened proudly. “That’s better. I told you working in a tavern was not without its benefits. A drunken sailor mistook me for the sort of serving girl he could take to his bed. When he got too close, I took advantage of our proximity to relieve him of a few of his effects. Among them these charts, and the pistol that convinced him I was not that sort of girl.”



Barbossa raised his eyebrows. “Yeh shot him?”



She shook her head. “Didn’t have to. But I kept the pistol and charts.”



Barbossa leaned back in his chair. “What makes yeh think he hadn’t been there already to clear out the treasure?”



“He bragged of having the charts, but not the treasure. He would have, if he’d had it. He bragged of a lot of things. Claimed to be captain of his ship, thinking he’d impress me.”



“I take it he didn’t.”



Elizabeth sniffed. “Not remotely. He was clearly not a very good captain.”



Barbossa leaned closer and dropped his voice. “Yeh only like the very good captains, do ye?”



Elizabeth couldn’t resist playing along, and leaned conspiratorially towards him. “Yes, I do prefer my captains to be good men, and capable. Men who wouldn’t allow a pretty smile and fluttering eyelashes to distract them into parting with their treasures.”



She allowed her eyelashes to flutter just a bit as she spoke, and to her delight, his gaze lingered over them, drifting down to her lips and perhaps a bit lower. She held his eyes, allowing a seductive smile to spread over her face as she slipped her hand between them. The map’s previous owner had been far easier prey than Barbossa, but if she was very careful, perhaps…



“Yer pretty eyes won’t be distractin’ me. And I assure yeh I be quite…capable.” She allowed her mouth to form a small “oh,” lips parted in a promise she didn’t intend to keep. Despite his claim to the contrary, it was clear Barbossa was quite distracted indeed, and his hand brushed against her hair as he tilted his face to hers.



Her eyes darted once down to her hand, just a hairsbreadth away from her goal. Barbossa mistook her intention and quirked his eyebrows, suggesting just how capable he might be. Elizabeth smiled sweetly, and her hand found the cold steel at his belt.



She held his gaze; his eyes were locked on hers, but before she could even slide the pistol up an inch, his hand covered hers, gently but firmly.



“Yeh little minx. Don’t even try it.”



Elizabeth’s face fell; his gaze was no longer hungry, but cold and calculating. Still, she held his eyes, even as he removed her hand from his pistol and guided it to the tabletop. “I see why that sailor thought yeh were that kind of girl.”



Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. “How dare you! You have no right to insinuate – ”



“Yer a tease, Mrs. Turner.” He emphasized her married name. “Yeh flirt, offerin’ what ye’ve no intention of givin’. Ye best watch yerself, or ye’ll get yerself into more trouble than ye can handle.”



She tossed her head. “I can handle myself just fine.” She turned back to the table, but he reached out, taking her chin in hand, and turned her to face him again.



“Yeh play games. Yeh got away with it with Will Turner and with Jack. But I’ve been a pirate too long, and I’ve no compunction about takin’ that which isn’t mine.” Elizabeth felt her eyes widen, but Barbossa held up a hand. “Now, I’ll not be takin’ anything from ye that yer not offerin’. But if yeh keep offerin’, won’t be long before I’ll be thinkin’ yeh really mean it.”



“I’ve no intention of betraying Will.”



“Good. Then yeh keep yer fluttering eyelashes to yerself.”



“And you’ll keep your pistol in your belt.”



He looked at her sideways, and Elizabeth kept her gaze steady. There was innuendo in that statement, to be sure, but he didn’t rise to the bait, turning instead to the maps on the table.



“Castillo del Morro can’t be reached by sea. Too well-guarded. We’ll be seen from miles off, and the cannons will fly before we can get anywhere near.”



Elizabeth indicated a point a little ways east of the fortress. “We make port here, then travel by land. The map’s previous owner suggested horses.”



“Which we’ve not got.”



“Then we buy them in town, or steal them.”



Barbossa nodded. “Better to buy, if we can. We’ll be comin’ back through this town; no sense raising the alarm before we can make good our escape.”



“Purchase, then. Though we will be able to leave by sea, and meet the Pearl out of range. The castle guards will be watching for ships coming, not going.”



“So says yer incompetent captain.”



Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Well, yes, but it makes sense.” She moved aside the chart that led to the port, uncovering a detailed map of the town, castle, and the winding path between them. “We follow this road from the town.”



“A short ride.”



“Yes, but a long walk, and difficult. I thought you might prefer horseback.” She lightly tapped his bad leg. He sifted in his seat and she quickly withdrew her hand.



“Guards’ll hear horses though.”



She traced the path with her finger. “We cut off the road here, leave the horses. We follow this path around to the dungeons. Captain Incompetent didn’t think they’d be guarded closely at night.”



“Doesn’t inspire much confidence in this plan o’ yours, relyin’ on such a man.”



Elizabeth sighed. “I know, but it’s all the information I’ve got. Have you got any better ideas?”



Barbossa contemplated for a moment, weighing the risks and benefits, then nodded at her. “What be our heading? We’ll set sail tonight for Castillo del Morro.”



* * *





When they docked in Cuba, they left William in the care of Murtogg, while Mullroy rowed Elizabeth, Barbossa, Pintel and Ragetti to shore. Marty and Cotton would bring the Pearl around, south of the Castle, just out of range.



The four pirates had done their best to attain the appearance of honest sailors. Elizabeth grudgingly accepted Barbossa’s suggestion that they might receive less notice by appearing to be a couple than they would storming in as the pirate lords they were, and donned a skirt over her breeches and let her hair down.



“Can’t wear yer sword.”



Elizabeth’s hands flew to her hips. “I’ve plenty of other weapons, but I’d really prefer to have my sword as well.”



But Barbossa would hear none of it, and held his hand out for the weapon. With a huff, Elizabeth turned it over, but to her surprise, he adjusted the baldric and slipped it over his shoulder, crosswise from his own blade.



“Plenty o’ men carry two. Ye’ll have it back before ye need it.”



“I hope so.” Elizabeth kissed William goodbye, then accepted Barbossa’s proffered arm as they started down the gangplank. It was surprisingly easy to float beside him as they made their way into the town center.



Elizabeth looked about for a likely horse-seller and led them directly there, dragging her “husband” away from a fruit vendor and their two charges away from a wench vendor. When she found two men standing with several horses, she approached them boldly.



“Excuse me, we were interested in possibly acquiring several of your fine steeds.”



Then men stared at her blankly, then spoke rapidly to each other. Although she didn’t understand their words, their leering eyes spoke volumes. One stepped towards her. “No hablo ingles, señora.”



“Oh.” Elizabeth looked at her companions nervously. She recognized the language as Spanish, but didn’t speak a word of it herself. This would certainly make negotiations difficult.



But Barbossa merely rolled his eyes at her, and spoke to the men in their own language. Elizabeth stared blankly for a moment. He spoke Spanish? How was it she had never known?



The transaction did not go smoothly, and the looks the men were giving her made Elizabeth regret not wearing breeches and a few more weapons. When Barbossa snarled something at them and tugged her to his side, she went willingly, smiling up at him when he took her hand in his and pressed her fingers to his lips.



The men disappeared for a moment. “What did you say to them?”



“Told ‘em I’d kill ‘em if they so much as looked at my wife again.”



Elizabeth flushed. She hadn’t expected him to take his role as her “husband” quite so seriously. “And the horses?”



“They’re comin’.”



“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.”



He leaned close and spoke softly in her ear. “Me llamo Hector Barbossa; por supuesto hablo español. Nací en España.” She had no idea what he was saying, besides his own name, but the foreign words on his tongue sent her stomach reeling.



“I don’t know what that means.”



He chuckled and spoke again, the words coming much too quickly for her to discern anything but her sudden shortness of breath. “What are you saying?”



He didn’t have the chance to answer, though, because the men returned with three horses. Barbossa paid for them and passed the reigns to Pintel and Ragetti, keeping one set for himself. “What about me?”



Barbossa sighed. “Couldn’t afford four; ye’ll have to share.”



“Why me?”



“Yer the lightest.” He adjusted his good leg in the stirrup and mounted. “Ride with Ragetti.”



Elizabeth tried to ignore the sudden surge of disappointment over having to ride with someone other than the Captain. It was only logical, after all, of the four of them, Elizabeth and Ragetti together would cause the horse far less discomfort than any other combination. And she had grown fond enough of Ragetti during her time on the Pearl. Still, she couldn’t help imagining it was Barbossa’s chest and arms surrounding her as they began their ride. When she caught Barbossa staring as she and Ragetti conversed in soft tones, she couldn’t help wonder if wasn’t feeling the same regret.



The ride took them the better part of the afternoon, and when it came time to move off the trail, there was still a little light left. The quartet settled in a nook just off the road, waiting for night to fall.



“Seems a shame to release the horses after just a few hours,” Ragetti pointed out.



“Can’t take ‘em with us, can’t take ‘em back. Treasure in there,” Barbossa indicated the Castle now looming on the horizon, “be offsettin’ the cost.” He gave Elizabeth a pointed look as he slipped her sword off his shoulder and handed it to her. “Had better be.”



Elizabeth sniffed and rested the sword beside her as she started unfastening her skirt. Now that they were out of sight of the townspeople, she saw no reason to maintain her appearance as a lady.



She started to wriggle out of the offending garment when she felt a soft touch on her arm. Barbossa had moved closer and now slid his hand up her arm as he purred into her ear.



“Be happy to help ye out o’ yer clothes, cariño, but perhaps we’d be wantin’ a bit more privacy.”



Looking up, she caught Pintel and Ragetti suddenly trying to appear interested in anything but Elizabeth. Eyes narrowed, Elizabeth stood, letting the skirt fall away. “I’m wearing breeches, and I’ve got enough weapons in them to make every one of you sorry you ever thought about looking at me that way.”



“Sorry, Miss. We just thought you was gettin’ naked.”



“Believe me, I will never be getting naked in front of you.” She shot a pointed look at Barbossa as she crumpled her skirt, stuffing it into her satchel. “Any of you.”



Elizabeth sat huffily and pulled out her map. She traced the path they had taken, and the path off-road that they would need to follow to sneak into the dungeons. Barbossa leaned over her, crunching on an apple he had procured.



“Where did you get that?”



“Nicked it while ye were makin’ a fuss back in town.”



Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I don’t suppose you got enough for everyone.”



He raised his eyebrows at her and pulled a second apple from his pocket. “Just two. We’ll have to share.” He tossed the apple to Pintel, who caught it and gladly divided it between himself and Ragetti. Barbossa held his own fruit in front of her face. “Have a bite.”



Elizabeth started to turn her nose up, but the rumbling in her stomach at the smell reminded her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She snatched the apple from his hand and took a ferocious bite. She was pleased to see his eyes widen and linger over her mouth as she chewed. She passed back the apple and they continued to eat that way. She once would have been disgusted into at the very least slicing the apple to split it in a more sanitary manner, but now found the thought of her mouth where Barbossa’s had just been wasn’t nearly as troubling as it ought to have been.



Elizabeth studied the map of the labyrinth beneath the castle in the growing darkness. “If all else fails, the way to escape a labyrinth is to simply keep one hand on a wall at all times. It may take longer, but eventually you’ll find your way out.”



“A sound plan when yer under attack,” Barbossa scoffed.



“Which is why we are awaiting the cover of darkness.” Elizabeth looked to the sky. The first stars were already peeking out. “Which we now have. Let’s go.”



Elizabeth stood, adjusting her sword belt on her shoulder. The company moved slowly down hill towards the dungeons of the castle. Barbossa stumbled more than once on the rocky terrain, leaning on Elizabeth as he regained his balance. “What we coulda used,” Pintel grumbled, “is a lantern.”



“Or a torch,” Ragetti agreed.



“Somethin’ with fire, an’ light.”



“Hush up, both of you.” Elizabeth steadied herself on a tree branch as a rock slipped beneath her feet. “We need to be both quiet and invisible if we’re to slip past the guards.”



“Won’t work if we start a bleedin’ landslide.”



Elizabeth shushed Barbossa, and slid down the rest of the path, ducking behind a bush to peek at the dungeon entrance. There was no sign of a guard, so she waved her companions ahead.



They slipped into the dungeons and started down the musty path. Elizabeth tried to recall the directions on the map, since it was too dark to examine it now. “When the path forks, take the right path.”



“Which one’s the right path?” Ragetti again.



“The one on the left,” Pintel responded.



“Really?”



“No!” Barbossa growled. “Stay te yer right-hand side.”



Ragetti held up both of his hands in front of him. “Which one’s my right?”



Elizabeth rolled her eyes and grabbed his right hand. “Starboard! Now hush!”



“Oh! Starboard. Why didn’t you say so?”



Elizabeth sighed and continued on the winding path. She kept one hand on the wall beside her, trying not to disturb the chains that hung periodically along the stones. At last the path wound around and came to a fork, with a dim lantern lighting each path.



Ragetti paused stopped and stood between the two doorways. “Which way do we go now?”



Barbossa made a show of rolling his eyes, then grabbed Ragetti by the scruff of the neck and shoved him down the right passageway. “Oh, right. Right. Starboard.”



Pintel took the lantern from the wall and lit their path as they continued. Elizabeth consulted their map each time the path split, and they were soon deeply ensconced within the dungeons, having met with no resistance. The trail they followed began to wind downwards, and Elizabeth examined the contents of the cells they passed. She was glad to find no live prisoners. Most cells seemed to contain nothing but rope, ammunition, and the occasional cannon. When she saw her first skeleton, she jumped back with a gasp.



“There were prisoners then.”



Barbossa took her arm and dragged her away. The rotted flesh on bone reminded her abruptly that her three companions had, not so very long ago, been still-living versions of that very skeleton. It was strange that the three men who had most terrified her on her first voyage on the Pearl were now the three of the crew she held dearest.



The path ended abruptly where an underground river apparently flowed through the dungeons. Elizabeth turned to the map she held. “Didn’t say anything about a river,” she muttered.



“Captain Incompetent failed to mention that, did he?”



Elizabeth bristled, double checking their route. Yes, they were headed the right way, and according to the map, needed to continue downriver. She made her way down to the river, wondering if it was shallow enough to wade through, but then spotted a longboat on the other side.



They made a human chain to cross the river, which was shallow but swift, and retrieved the boat, awkwardly climbing in. Elizabeth stumbled and wound up in Barbossa’s lap, much to the amusement of their companions. She threw a glare at all three of them as she righted herself and took her own seat.



The boat drifted steadily downstream, Elizabeth directing Pintel and Ragetti at each fork. They passed stone statues in the poses of guarding soldiers, and more than a few skeletons lying along the banks. Elizabeth couldn’t suppress a slight gasp at the sight of a rotting skeleton slumped over the helm of an equally rotted ship at one turn.



It seemed to make her companions uneasy as well, and the men on the oars rowed a bit faster. Barbossa touched her shoulder lightly, and she turned to him. He gave her a weak smile, and she wondered whether he was trying to comfort her or himself. The skeletal helmsman could easily have been him, not so very long ago. She gave his hand a quick squeeze and returned to her map. They were getting close now.



They continued down a long, winding stretch that opened into a wider space, almost like a lake. According to the map, it seemed they should be turning to the left, but the lake emptied directly ahead of them. Barbossa’s gaze shifted between the map and the shore of the lake.



“Take us to the left bank, gents.”



Elizabeth frowned, peering into the distance. “The river doesn’t run that way.”



“Map doesn’t say anything about a river. Let’s see what’s on land.”



Elizabeth saw no reason to argue, and they were soon climbing out of the boat onto the rocky shore. “Captain,” she hissed, accepting his hand as she stepped onto shore, “have you noticed we haven’t yet met with any resistance?”



“I had noticed.”



“And you’re not worried? This seems almost too easy…”



“Haven’t found any treasure yet. Won’t call it easy until we get the goods.”



Elizabeth glanced around her, loosening her sword in its scabbard. The others were getting jumpy as well in the eerie silence of the dungeons. She had never realized just how nerve-wracking it could be, waiting for an enemy who never showed himself.



Barbossa had already walked ahead to the wall surrounding the cavern, indicating for Ragetti to follow with the lantern. Elizabeth and Pintel joined them, frowning as the captain ran his fingers along the bricks. “There’s nothing here, Captain.” Her voice echoed in the chamber.



Barbossa merely held up a finger to his lips and continued his manual inspection of the wall. Elizabeth folded her arms and slid into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall where Barbossa wasn’t. “Are you quite finished?”



“Patience, Missy. Ahh,” he sighed. “Just as I thought. Get over here.”



Elizabeth huffed as she rose to her feet. Barbossa’s arm came around her as she approached, leading her in between himself and the wall. She was about to swat his hand away when he indicated a brick in front of her.



“What about it?”



“Move it.”



“What?”



“Yer fingers be smaller than mine, pry it out.”



“That’s ridiculous, I can’t do that.”



“It’s meant to move, just wriggle it a bit.”



She shot him a withering look, then began to pull at the brick he indicated. Her fingers slid easily into the worn spaces on the top and bottom of the brick, and after a few moments of pushing and pulling, sure enough, the brick shifted. She turned to Barbossa in amazement. “How did you know?”



She pulled a bit more at the brick, and once he could get a hold on it, Barbossa helped her pull it out. The quartet stepped away from the wall as a door materialized and swung slowly open, scraping slightly against the floor.



“That’s how,” Barbossa pointed at the scratches in the rocks the door had left. “Builders wouldn’t have put paving stones up here without a reason. And there be scratches only along these rocks.”



“You’ve seen this sort of thing before?”



“Aye. Let’s see yer map. We’re close now, I can smell it.”



They were very close. Two more turns lead them into an antechamber that positively glittered with jewels and gold. Pintel and Ragetti exchanged greedy grins before rushing in. Elizabeth just stood and took in the sight. She’d half expected the room to be empty, if it existed at all.



Barbossa strode up behind her and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Well, Captain Swann. It seems yeh’ve more than earned yer keep on the Pearl.” She flushed at his admiring smile. He moved ahead of her into the treasure room. “Take what yeh can.”



Elizabeth grinned. “Give nothing back.” Barbossa acknowledged her with a nod, and she felt her smile widen.



She bent to inspect the various trinkets and treasures littered about the floor and shelves. Elizabeth filled her pockets and pouches with all the coins she could carry, then tied a bundle of heavy jacquard fabrics with a silk scarf. She tied a second scarf around her head and another around her waist, feeling more like a pirate than she ever had.



“Captain Barbossa,” she indicated a lovely tea set she found behind the jacquard. “For your cabin?”



Barbossa pocketed a handful of colorful jewels and a necklace of some sort before joining her to see what she had found. To her dismay, he shook his head. “Won’t make the trip. Too fragile.”



Elizabeth wouldn’t have traded her life as a pirate for any amount of tea, but it would be nice to have something to drink besides wine, rum, and William’s fresh water. Barbossa was right, though; there was simply no way to carry an entire tea set to their small boat, and then take it up to the Pearl. It was a waste of space that could be used to carry gold.



She must have worn her disappointment on her face, because Barbossa’s eyes rolled, and then he was wrapping the teapot in one of the silk scarves she had found earlier and placing it gently into a small chest he had been filling. Elizabeth felt herself grinning madly and wrapped up as many cups and saucers as she could, added the sugar bowl and creamer, and helped him squeeze them into the chest.



“Thank you,” she murmured as she worked beside him. His hand brushed against hers as they arranged the china and she froze a moment. His fingers wrapped around hers and squeezed tightly.



“Thank ye. This chest alone be keeping the Pearl stocked for many months.”



Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered at the praise and his touch. “You’ll take tea with me then?”



“Every day, if ye like.”



She returned his grin. “I don’t suppose there’ll be crumpets, or cucumber sandwiches?”



Barbossa squinted at her. “Ye’ll have hard tack. Close yer eyes and pretend it’s a crumpet.”



Elizabeth laughed. “I always do.”



Barbossa chuckled and together they returned to packing away the tea set. Her hands shook only slightly as she layered one last scarf across the top of the chest and closed it gently.



Barbossa snapped the latch into place and hefted the chest under his arm. “Gents!” he announced, then turned dramatically to Elizabeth. “Lady. We’d best be off. We’ll take what we can to the longboat, and make for the Pearl.”



Elizabeth slung her now-heavy satchel over her shoulder and gathered her bundle of fabrics. They would fetch a good price in a nice town, though she briefly considered keeping one length to fashion into a dress for herself. Nothing with a corset, naturally, but something appropriate for afternoon tea with the Captain.



Pintel and Ragetti began to lead the way, each with satchels of their own and a trunk they carried between them. Elizabeth conferred with the map as they backtracked, but when they reached the last passage, it came to a dead end.



“Fools,” Barbossa accused. “Ye’ve lead us astray. Let’s see the map, Mrs. Turner.”



Elizabeth bristled as she spread the map before them. Barbossa set down the chest and poked at the map for a moment. “There be the problem. Yeh turned right when it shoulda been left.”



“No, you’re looking at it wrong,” Elizabeth countered. “We’re coming backwards from here, so it should be a right turn.”



“Then why’s there no door where a door should be?”



“Perhaps it closed?”



Barbossa gave her a withering look and shoved aside his two crew members to examine the wall. He shoved against the place where the door had been, and sure enough, the wall moved.



“The wind must’ve blown it closed,” Ragetti observed.



Pintel swatted his head. “There be no wind in the dungeons.”



“Well, if we didn’t close the door, and it wasn’t the wind, what was it that closed it?”



At that moment, Barbossa gave the door a good thrust with the hilt of his sword, and the loose brick on the far side dislodged with a clatter. As the door swung slowly open, the quartet of thieves learned simultaneously that it had not been wind that had closed the door, and that the treasure they carried was not nearly so unguarded as it had initially appeared.