The Devil's Hand

--Chapter Four--



Tortuga



    They sailed to Tortuga to pick up word of the Blood Storm. Nicola was fascinated by an island populated entirely by pirates, though she made sure to stick close to Will and Jack, recognising that not all pirates, in fact most, were not as nice as the captain of the Black Pearl or his crew.

    The trio and first mate, Gibbs, went to the Faithful Bride tavern. It was apparently a favourite of Jack's.

    "How good are you with a sword?" Jack asked Nicola as they found a table.

    "Terrible," she admitted. "But Father taught me and all of my siblings to use a pistol and a rifle, though of my sisters, only Catherine is remotely interested in the weapons. Father took me hunting with the boys frequently, so that I know how to use them quite well."

    He eyed her, somewhat askance. "Really." Turning to Will, he said, "When we get back to the Pearl, teach her to use a blade, savvy? And for now, keep an eye on the wench, would you?"

    Then the captain rounded on Gibbs. "Joshamee, ask around about our quarry."

    "Aye aye, Cap'n."

    "What are you going to do?" Will asked, as Jack pushed away from the table.

    "I'm going to find me a drink."

    Will and Nicola sat for a bit at the table, watching the chaos around them. Will was not happy that Nicola looked so enthralled with the proceedings.

    "You don't need to protect me from Jack," she said after a minute or two.

    "Yes, I do!" her cousin immediately snapped. "He's a scoundrel."

    "No worse than the men back in England, just more honest about it," she retorted. "Besides, I'm nineteen and almost firmly a spinster. I have been courted by my share of men. I know how to ward them off if I choose."

    He was quiet for a long moment, brown eyes watching her contemplatively. "You didn't ward off Roccelli."

    She sighed. "I let him fool me. He said that if I married him, he'd make sure that Eleanor would be able to study painting in Italy as she desperately wants to."

    "And do you choose to ward off Jack?"

    She shrugged. "He's entertaining. I'm not blind, Will. I am aware that he is a pirate and I am the granddaughter of an earl. He's a diversion, that's all."

    Her cousin sat back in his chair, somewhat mollified by her words. He got a far-off expression, and Nicola knew without asking that he was thinking of Elizabeth.

    "She's very nice," she offered.

    "Who?" Will shook himself from his reverie.

    "Elizabeth. She's very nice, and pretty. How did you meet?"

    Will's whole face transformed from dour and disapproving to ridiculously happy in the space of an instant. "She saved my life. The ship I was on, travelling from England to find my father, was attacked by pirates. I was the sole survivor. Elizabeth and her father were on a British vessel bound for Jamaica, and she spotted me in the water. We've been . . . friends ever since, though really, I've loved her since that day."

    He snorted. "She would likely be married to Norrington now if not for Jack."

    "Hmm." Nicola pondered that for a moment. "I think I'll go find a bite to eat. They should have something, since it's a tavern."

    She made her way to the bar, where she found that they did, indeed, serve food. It was simple fare, a slab of bread and a bowl of stew, but she didn't mind. She ordered a mug of mead to go with it.

    Nicola was just laying down the copper coins to pay for it when an arm snaked around her waist and she found herself yanked against a very portly fellow who reeked of a sty.

    "'Ere, luvvie, don't think I've seen ye 'round afore. Give ol' Hugh a kiss, now."

    She instantly lamented being petite, and wearing a skirt, because "ol' Hugh" had her pinned quite firmly between himself and the bar, and she couldn't reach her knife. He had a face full of salt-and-pepper whiskers, and very few teeth left in his mouth.

    "Let go of me, you pox-ridden goat herder!" she squawked, kicking vigorously at his shins.

    Hugh wasn't at all fazed, and he tried to kiss her. Nicola ducked her head, shrieking, "Will!"

    There was a click, loud in the silence that followed her outburst as most heads nearby turned to see what was going on.

    "I suggest, mate, if you want to be keeping your faculties, such as they are, you'll do as the lady requests."

    Hugh froze, and Nicola raised her gaze to see Jack Sparrow standing behind the man, cocked pistol pressed to the back of Hugh's head.

    "She's mine, Sparrow, I found 'er first!" Hugh protested.

    A moment later, a sword appeared at Hugh's throat, grip in Will's hand. "If you do not release her this instant, I will split you nose to loins. Slowly."

    Hugh couldn't let go of Nicola fast enough. The pig-in-men's-clothes stumbled back, and Jack neatly evaded his bulk, without spilling the mug in his other hand.

    Will didn't bother watching him go. "Are you alright?" he asked Nicola, who looked shaken.

    "I've been better," she admitted. She swallowed and said, "Thank you both. I believe I need a more obvious weapon."

    Will pressed her bowl into her hands and guided her back to their table, holding her drink with the hand not wrapped around her shoulders. "Yes, you do. Preferably a pistol."

    Jack placed the pistol he'd just threatened Hugh with on the table in front of her. "Here. I just won that in a ridiculous game of cards."

    She blinked at him with big, blue eyes. "Really?"

    He gestured to his own weapons. "I've already got mine."

    Nicola picked up the pistol. It was fairly small, of a good size for her hand. The barrel and butt were elaborately decorated with a baroque floral motif, that continued in the carved ivory handle.

    "It's beautiful, thank you," she said, and smiled.

    Jack grinned. "I saw it and thought of you. Small, pretty, rather deadly."

    Will shot the pirate a dark look, which Jack blithely ignored.

    "Now I just need a belt," Nicola said, also ignoring her cousin.

    Gibbs returned about then, looking grim. "He's been spotted near Barbados," he said without preamble, dropping into a chair next to Jack.

    The captain nodded. "Then we'll head that way. As soon as I finish me drink."

    Nicola hid her smile by taking a bite of her stew.

 

-----

 

    On the way to Barbados, Nicola familiarised herself with the Black Pearl. She showed obvious scarring from battles, but Nicola thought the ship was beautiful. The Pearl wasn't a large ship, only a hundred feet or so bow to stern, with roughly seventy feet of deck length, perhaps twenty more on the mast, and she only boasted a crew of twelve, captain included. That wasn't too bad, in Nicola's estimation; most of the ships her father owned were of an equivalent size.

    Since the crew was so small, it wasn't difficult for her to find a spot out of the way on the aft deck, by the rear wall under the tall lanterns that graced the stern. When she sat on the deck with her book, in the shade, the only person on that deck was the captain. He stood at the wheel, one hand lazily guiding the ship that it was obvious he adored. In his other hand, he held a compass, but he had no map to consult. Gibbs had that down on the main deck, where he occasionally barked orders to the crew.

    Nicola thought it odd, but not overly so, that Jack used only a compass. Some sailors, she'd long since noted, had strange affinities for navigation.

    "What are you reading?"

    She didn't bother looking up from her book. "Milton."

    Jack strained to see the book, but couldn't exactly leave his position. "What's Milton?"

    "Milton is the author. It's an epic poem, about the Fall."

    He frowned. "Fall of what?"

    Nicola ducked her head to hide her smirk. It wasn't good, she thought, that he made her smile so much. And that he'd given her a gift that meant more to her than any of the jewels her suitors in England had bestowed on her. "The fall of Adam and Eve, Captain Sparrow, and the introduction of sin into the world. I've already read it, but it's such a rich and dense work that I pick up something new each time."

    She looked up to find him frowning at her, looking puzzled. "Is something wrong, Captain Sparrow?"

    "You're reading poetry on a pirate ship."

    At that, she laughed. "It's not poetry, exactly. Here, listen.



    "'Into this wild Abyss,

    The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave,

    Of neither sea, nor shore, or air, nor fire,

    But all these in their pregnant causes mixed

    Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight,

    Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain

    His dark materials to create more worlds--

    Into this Abyss the wary Fiend

    Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while

    Pondering his voyage; for no narrow frith

    He had to cross'."



    Jack raised an eyebrow. "You're right, love, that isn't poetry. And not at all the kind of thing I'd expect you to be reading, that is certain."

    "What would you expect?" she asked, with an arched brow of her own.

    He took a moment to adjust the ship's course, then looked back at her. "I don't know, something . . . female and full of frippery. Something French."

    She shuddered. "Only if absolutely desperate for entertainment."

    Jack eyed her speculatively. "And what, besides reading, do you do for entertainment?"

    Nicola shrugged. "The usual feminine pursuits foisted upon us: needlework, watercolours, discussing fashion until I feel my brain would rot and seep out my ears. Don't get me wrong, I love a well-turned heel, but there is only so much of taffeta versus moire discussion that I can take without wanting to throw myself off a balconey."

    Gibbs came up and interrupted to ask Jack a question. She went back to reading her book while they spoke.

    "The fall of Adam and Eve, is it?" Jack had left his position at the wheel, Cotton taking over, and now he stood over her.

    "Mmm, yes. The temptation of Eve, specifically, and the exodus from the Garden of Eden." She turned the page.

    There was a long silence. Finally, she looked up to find him squinting at her.

    "What?" she asked cautiously.

    He rolled his shoulders. "'Tis interesting," he said at length. "I admit I'm not all that familiar wif' the tale. My father isn't much for religion, and my mum, well . . . She's Hindu, so I was mostly raised with that, aye?"

    Nicola closed the book, keeping a finger in to mark her place. A closer study made her realise his skin tone was not entirely from the sun. It also explained the dark hair and those stunning eyes. Oh, bother, she thought. "Would it be far off the mark to suppose your father was a member of the East India Trading Company, then?" she asked.

    "It wouldn't," he said. "But he's, ah, got other occupations these days."

    "What does he think of your occupation?" she inquired.

    Jack gave her a crooked, gold-filled grin. "He's a pirate himself, love. What do you think?"

    He went to leave, paused, rotated on one bootheel and nearly fell over. "Truth be told, though, he scares the daylights out of me."

    Then he was gone, leaving Nicola frowning in consternation after him.



-----

 

Barbados



    Barbados was a golden isle surrounded by tropical blue-green waters that Jack made occasion to remark looked like Nicola's eyes, to which Will snorted derisively. Nicola privately thought that her eyes weren't nearly so green, just a hint around the edge and a bit of brownish-gold in the middle around the iris, not the brilliant blue of her sister Catherine's that she'd always envied. In fact, Nicola thought her eyes were quite muddy that way, but if Jack wanted to pay her a compliment, she wasn't going to refuse.

    It took a bit to find someone who knew of the Blood Storm, and after an afternoon of asking around, they discovered that their quarry hadn't been seen at the island for three or four days.

    "I feel we're on a goose-chase," Nicola said, as they headed back to the Pearl.

    "We'll find 'im," Jack said. His hand lightly patted the compass that hung at his hip. "Eventually."

    "That's encouraging," Will said darkly.

    Nicola poked him in the ribs, which earned her a scowl. "Now what are we to do?" she asked the men at large. "Sail from island to island and hope we stumble over him?"

    Jack shrugged. "Works for me. Let's make port here for a day or two, see if any word comes in."

    "I have no objections," she said. "Will?"

    His only answer was to insert himself between his cousin and the pirate and grit his teeth.