Apprentice To The Sorcerer

We broke beach. I spied Barbossa and Blood standing together, speaking to each other as men unloaded supplies directly onto the sand. Jack meandered over to them, employing his loopy sashay instead of the deliberate walk he’d used most of our time together. Again I took pleasure in the completeness of his act.

Since I still technically had no duty to perform, I took up my physick bag and began wandering through the throng of people gathered on the beach, looking for persons obviously in need of medical attention. I set up on a large rock after a line formed, busily diagnosing and treating as best as I could.

I finished setting a broken finger on a man obviously sloshed. He staggered off. Immediately, I found myself looking at a hand with a large gash across the back of it. Red and infected, it almost pulsed with aggressive illness. I looked at it.

I knew that hand.

I looked up into the eyes of Will Turner.

Swallowing my surprise, I gave him a smile and pretended I wasn’t a bit taken aback by his presence. He did not return my smile, just stared down at me like I might be some sort of poisonous snake. A wintry feeling coiled in my stomach. I took out a clean scalpel and began picking dead tissue and lumps of pus from his injury.

“Will it need stitches?” he asked coldly.

“Fewer than Captain Sparrow required,” I answered, resisting the urge to dig at his injury. He had some gall to ask me such a question.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?” Will shifted a bit where he stood.

“Who am I to you that you would care over my inquiry?” I replied. I took the flesh of his hand and squeezed a tremendous amount of yellow lymph from the slash. I felt hateful, tainted by the unsaid words that hung between us. Jack’s soulful generosity stood as a complete contrast to Will’s obstinate animosity.

“You were my fiancé,” Will answered.

“Was I?” I pushed until blood seeped from him. “I thought I was your friend first.”

“You were.” William’s hand jerked as I manipulated a fair amount of pain into his hand.

“And now I am a nobody physick,” I shot back, taking a needle from my bag. I threaded it, eyeing the bottle of spirits to check the level of contents. I had enough.

“Elizabeth,” Will began, his voice tired.

“My name is Lei, to you,” I said, my tone as frozen and barren as an iceberg. “This is going to hurt,” I informed him, not looking up. I poured the alcohol into his wound, holding his hand steady as he jerked with pain. “Be still,” I commanded.

“You are Elizabeth,” Will said stubbornly,

“I am Lei,” I uttered lowly. “I am no one else to you, William Turner.” I stabbed the needle into his skin, drawing my first stitch with the same casual attitude I might use in repairing a sail.

“I’m going to be the blacksmith here,” Will said, talking as if I had said nothing of importance. “Barbossa brought me.”

“That’s Captain Barbossa,” I said, feeling the need to pay a little homage to the man who’d rid me of all my guilt.

“Whatever,” Will muttered ill-naturedly.

“No,” I hissed, pulling his stitch tight. “You want to live here among pirates, you adhere to our code.” I made three swift stitches in succession.

“I agreed to come here,” Will argued. “I came because Captain Barbossa made me a lucrative offer.”

“Good for you.” I knotted the work, cutting the thread and pouring spirits over the angry line. “Do a good job and no doubt you will keep a place here.” I really didn’t want that to happen. I felt infuriated I would have to deal with his censure. Life seemed complicated enough without my old boyfriend hanging about. I couldn’t handle his constant interference. If he wanted to be part of my inner circle he would have to respect me. I bound up his hand and motioned him to step aside. “Fuck off, Will,” I said. “There are other men who need my help.”

“Men like Jack?” William sneered at me.

I looked at him dead on. “There are no men like Jack,” I informed him. “Go about your business.”

Will walked away.

I busied myself with tending to others, my mind teeming with unkind thoughts. What the hell was he thinking? I didn’t for a moment blame Hector; we needed a skilled blacksmith on our island and Will was the best. I just didn’t need the drama that came along with him.

I tended to men for two hours.

“How much do you charge?”

I looked up at the man I tended to, breathing through my nose. “I charge nothing for medical assistance,” I said simply, setting his broken thumb.

“I mean for your wares,” the man said, leering at me.

I stopped binding his thumb. “My wares?” I questioned.

“Your body,” he said, licking his lips. “I haven’t had a whore in months.”

“I’m not a doxy,” I said calmly, drawing his bandage tight.

“And?” The man reached out, attempted to grab my breast. I stood up swiftly, knocking my bag over in my haste. My cutlass came out. Thrusting it under his chin, I glared at him.

“You want me,” I said, filled with rage. “You come and get me.”

He reached for me. I pushed the point of my blade into his chin.

I drew a crowd. Several large black men gathered around us in a circle. Ignoring them, I watched blood trickle down the man’s white throat. “Insult me,” I dared him. “I’ll nourish the plant life with your corpse.”

“You’re just a little mite,” the man said, drawing his own weapon. “But if you like to play rough…”

I stepped out from my place, kicking my bag to the side. “I don’t play,” I growled.

He grinned at me. “I like a woman who plays,” he said, touching out blades together.

“I like a man who listens,” I answered, thrusting his sword to the side.

He made a swift feint to the left. I countered it and struck back, driving him into a retreat. He was no match for me. I thrust him backward three times before sinking my blade into his neck. His blood spurted out in a brilliant fountain of crimson, drenching the bone-white sand. He fell with a gurgle of surprise. I wiped my cutlass on his coat. “Anyone else?” I challenged the crowd.

No one made a move.

I sheathed my weapon and sat back down, taking up my medical bag. “Next,” I said flatly.

My next patient had to step around a body…

**************************************************************************************

“So, did you do it?”

I glanced at Pintel. “Do what?” I asked, knowing full well what he alluded to.

“You know,” he said. “Did you…?”

“Did I have sex with the captain?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Yes.” I threw myself into my hammock, letting my eyes wander the room of interested people. “And I intend to continue doing so until I die of old age.”

War whoops of approval resounded around the enclosure.

“Ow was ‘e?”

“Any good?”

“Take his time?”

I narrowed my eyes at them all. “Not that it concerns any of you,” I drawled, “but the captain is a sex god.”

“Oi knew it,” Faraday uttered, falling back on his sling.

“Shut it, you,” Ragetti growled. “This ain’t nuttin we need ta know.”

“The hell,” Banks muttered.

I twisted around until I felt comfortable in my sling. “We’ve reached an accord,” I said. “S’all I’m going to say to you lot.” I looked at a bottle of rum that Whitehall thrust under my nose. “No,” I said clearly, pushing it away. “I got duty in five hours.”

Whitehall nodded, taking the bottle back. Pintel sniffed, looking from side to side. “Bound ta happen,” he said. “Took you two long enough.”

“Aw, sod off,” I grumbled, wrapping my blanket around me firmly. “When we get our house built y’cn say what you like. All of you blokes c’n have dinner with us.”

“You mean it?” Ragetti queried.

“Sure,” I mumbled. I felt so tired. “Love him, y’know.”

“We knows it,” Lloyd said softly. “S’alright w’ us.”

“Don’t care if it ain’t,” I answered, grinning. “Know what I want.”

*************************************************************************************

I lost myself in four days of heavy labor. The sting of sun and muscle strain went a long way toward soothing my nerves, blanketed my need for Jack underneath raw exhaustion. My mates and I completed the dock and went on to building, working steadily underneath a boiling tropic sun. I stripped to my halter and short pants, relying on Pintel and Sabado to intercept lustful interlopers. They were my guards, my mates, my friends. The rest of Jack’s crew shared the watch over me. I couldn’t have been more guarded had I been a load of precious gold.

Jack spent long hours overseeing the completion of the initial harbor buildings. I sorrowed for him. Watching him, I observed how tired he seemed, how utterly exhausted his wiry body looked after long hours underneath the heat and relentless demands of masonry. He shared in the setting of stone as if a common laborer, taking few moments for rest and going back to his work before others even considered stirring.

Barbossa approached him on the second day. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I studied the two men. His erstwhile mutineer joined him, making a team of it. They worked together silently but with speed, their movements nearly perfectly balanced. Love for Jack filled me. He had a deep, abiding mistrust of his previous first mate, yet he swallowed it for the sake of his dreams.

All the while I toiled, men built the town. Sabado and the team he’d selected worked so efficiently it seemed buildings sprung up overnight.

I forced myself to work without thinking of anything else. In the evenings, when our labors stopped for lack of light, I tended to minor injuries and spent my time with Sabado. My brother and I fell asleep on each other two nights in a row, waking only when dawn came.

Peter prowled the growing harbor restlessly, his issue with Jack and the murders forgotten for favor of his wife’s irrational behavior. Arabella flitted back and forth between the Advocatus Diaboli and the beach like a wraith, wringing her hands and clutching at her belly. On the eve of the fifth day I could take no more of her spastic movements. I gave Ragetti my hammer and bag of nails, took up my medical bag and followed her into the thick undergrowth.

She made the easiest trail. I tracked her to a small rove of palms, approaching her with my hands spread out in a gesture of peace.

“What?” she spat, drawing up like I posed a threat.

“You’re pregnant,” I announced softly, seating myself before her. “Let me look at you.”

“How would you know?” Mrs. Blood drew her knees up and looked away. “I don’t know it myself.”

“I do,” I answered. “Your body knows it too.”

“I am not letting you look at me,” Mrs. Blood answered, looking nervous. Her eyes darted back and forth. “You are a scallywag and a bounder.”

I realized she still didn’t know I was female. No one informed her. Smiling to myself, I knelt before her. “Arabella,” I soothed, compelled by some unknown force to make nice. “You can hate me all you wish, but don’t let your little one suffer for it.”

Mrs. Blood stared at me. Her lips pressed together. “I’m not with child,” she said stubbornly. “Peter and I have been very careful. You can go away.”

I held her gaze. “You are indeed with child,” I countered. “And Peter is my friend. Even if I hated you, which I don’t, I would want the baby seen to.”

“I don’t trust you,” Mrs. Blood replied. “You might be over here to make an advance upon me. Depart and I will not mention it to Peter.”

I had to laugh. “I promise you I am not interested,” I vowed, raising my hand. “I am Captain Sparrow’s.”

Mrs. Blood stared at me. “You jest,” she accused.

“I do not,” I assured her. “Know you not that I am a woman, same as you?”

‘Be gone,” Mrs. Blood said, putting a hand to her forehead. “I don’t have the time or inclination to deal with you today.”

I parted the folds of my vest, grasping my shirt to peel it aside and expose my naked breasts. “I am a woman,” I repeated. “And I am a physician. Let me tend to you.”

Mrs. Blood looked at me. “You are,” she murmured in astonishment. Her expression of severe shock almost made me laugh out loud.

“I am,” I confirmed, closing my garments while I mastered my burst of humor. “Now, tell me about how you’ve been feeling.”

For a few minutes I endured Mrs. Blood’s scrutiny. She twitched upon the sand like a skewered lizard. “Peter didn’t tell me,” she said, sounding hurt. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Perhaps it never occurred to him you wouldn’t have figured it out,” I suggested. “It was a secret for a very long time anyway.” As I spoke I moved closer to her. “Now, have you been sick in the mornings?”

“Yes.” Arabella winced. “I can’t keep anything down until after noon, sometimes later.” She touched her belly. “We have been so careful. I can’t be pregnant. Maybe I’m just sick.”

“You’d rather be sick than pregnant,” I surmised. “Well, I can’t blame you.” I inched forward and grabbed her wrist. She jerked but went calm when she saw I meant to measure the beats of her heart. “You have a strong heart,” I commented. “Anything hurting you anywhere?”

“No.” Arabella looked into my face, scrutinizing me. “Why didn’t I see it before? You are a female.”

I smiled at her. “Mrs. Blood,” I said softly. “People see what they want to see. I merely took advantage of that. Nearly everyone concerned in my little charade remained ignorant until my unmasking. Captain Sparrow was the only one who knew from the beginning. I don’t even know when your husband figured it out, not really.”

“But you said some horrible things to me,” Arabella persisted. “How could you treat another woman that way?”

“You were moving in on my man,” I said, raising her eyelids to check the condition of her sclera near the back. “And you were obnoxious. I did you a favor, don’t you think?”

Arabella looked down, breaking my contact with her face. “Yes,” she admitted softly. “And you were right about a lot of things. I’ve seen men that are very different from Captain Sparrow’s crew and Peter’s as well.”

“Your husband and my lover are two good men,” I agreed. “Now, about your mood swings. You need to get regular exercise but not strenuous exercise. If you feel like you have too much energy, remind yourself not to overdo it.”

“You want me to take walks?” Arabella asked, looking interested.

“Walks will be fine. You can swim if you like, though I think you won’t be doing it in the ocean, am I correct?”

“I break out when salt water hits my skin,” she confirmed. “Not very good for the wife of a pirate.”

I chuckled. “We may yet find a fresh water source big enough for you to swim in, but in the meantime, take walks and try to keep calm. Your moods will be volatile and it isn’t your fault, but don’t take it out on Peter. He’s worried about you.”

“I know.” Arabella drew her legs up, resting her chin on them. “So what else do I need to do?”

“Keep your diet to fresh food and avoid an overload of salt,” I instructed. “Eat whenever you feel hungry and don’t worry about your figure. You can get that back after your baby is born.”

Arabella made a scoffing noise. “I could be three hundred pounds and Peter wouldn’t care a bit,” she muttered. “I’m not worried about my weight.”

“Good.” I favored her with another smile. “You’ve come a long way. Miss Bishop would have dreaded loosing her trim figure.”

“Miss Bishop had no idea there was more to life than appearances and parties,” Arabella answered. “If I really am pregnant I don’t want anything to happen to my baby. I’ll do as you say.” She gave me a careful look. “Peter is a doctor. Why hasn’t he made the connection like you did?”

“Peter is too close to you to make that sort of observation,” I hazarded a guess. “All he sees is how upset you are. He’d do anything to see you put to rights. Maybe he thinks you don’t want to live here?”

“This is as good a place as any,” Arabella answered. “But I haven’t discussed it with him, no. Maybe he does think he’s out of favor with me or some other foolish notion.”

“A man’s first inclination is to assume guilt,” I told her. “They aren’t as observant as we are and they just assume they’ve done something, which is usually the case anyway.”

Arabella frowned. “How do you know so much? We’re about the same age and yet you seem years older than me.”

“I’ve just seen more,” I said. “And I pay attention to everything that I can.” I held my hand out to her. “Now, get up and go talk to your husband. He’s driven to distraction over you.”

Arabella took my hand, slightly surprising me. She dusted herself off. Suddenly, she smiled. “I’m going to have Peter’s baby,” she said, realization dawning in her eyes.

I smiled back. “Yes, you are,” I said. “My congratulations to you. You’ll be a good mother.”

“You think so?” Her eager question touched my heart.

“Yes, I do think so.” I led her back out of the underbrush, holding vines and limbs out of her way. “If you don’t feel comfortable walking by yourself, come get me. Assuming I’m not already busy with something important, I’ll go with you. Failing that, take Peter or even my brother.”

“Your brother would go with me?” Arabella looked shocked.

“He would,” I assured her. “Sabado likes babies and he’s also being medically trained.”

“But I’ve insulted him in the past.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sometime when you’re bored, ask Jack about the time I killed him. Get some insight as to the mind of a pirate.”

We parted company silently. I made a beeline for Sabado while Arabella headed straight for her worried husband. Sabado wedged a beam into the support wall of the new harbormaster’s office and looked down at me. “De crazy lady looks better,” he commented. “What you do?”

“I told her she’s pregnant,” I said, grinning. “Would you mind taking walks with her if she needs company? I told her I would do it too, but we might have to all take shifts with her to make it work.”

“I take de little white woman where she wants,” he answered easily. He shook his head, a slow smile spreading over his face. “De firs’ baby on de island,” he said. “Captain Blood forget he angry with Captain Jack now, I bet.”

We looked at the two Bloods. Peter gave a shout of joy as Arabella smiled up at him. He swooped down upon her, placing his hand on her belly and embracing her gently.

“Yes,” I said, smiling at the scene. “I don’t think Peter can hold a grudge while he watches his wife grow with his child.”

I jumped in surprise as Jack thrust his face between Sabado and me. “Incubating sprog, is she?” he asked, grinning to shame the devil. “Ah well. Good for them.”

“Where you come from?” Sabado asked, bewildered to an extent that he didn’t address Jack properly. “You not here a moment ago.”

Jack feigned innocence. Badly. “I’m everywhere,” he answered. His eyes slid to me. A sly look stole into his mien. “Well, not quite everywhere. There’s a place I dearly want to be…”

“When?” I asked, uncaring if I seemed desperate. I was desperate.

“You talk without me,” Sabado interrupted. “I go offer to take walks with crazy lady while she still with her husband.” So saying, he strode away.

“I think we embarrassed him,” Jack murmured. “I didn’t think that possible.” Turning to me, he favored me with a look that set my nerves on fire. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

“You’re an ache that doesn’t go away,” I replied. “When can we be together?”

“Not tonight, to my extreme displeasure,” Jack said lowly, moving just a bit closer to me. “Hector and I need to go over blueprints and such. Would you like to join us? I’ll settle for having you near if I can’t be as close as I wish.”

“I’d be happy to join you. Is Peter not in this?” I risked getting close enough to him to remove a piece of palm frond from his hair. His eyes tracked my movement, growing surprised when I drew back from him with greenery in my palm.

“Blood says blueprints make his head hurt,” Jack answered. “He opted for doing other things.” His hand reached up. Small bits of vine fell past my eyes. “Funny, we look like we’ve been tumbling in the woods.”

“If only we had been,” I said lowly. Slowly, I backed away from him. “What time tonight?”

“After dark,” Jack replied, his eyes full of regret and lust. “And go see Hector. He has something for you.”

“Something other than Will?” I asked hatefully. “He went and got him, did you know?”

“Thought I saw him,” Jack said. “You alright with it?” His tone held more than a suggestion of concern. I realized he worried Will would greatly upset me.

“No, but we need him,” I said reluctantly. “I know why Captain Barbossa recruited him. I can’t like it but what I like isn’t as important as getting a blacksmith. Maybe he’ll turn out fine once he’s here awhile.”

“If he doesn’t, tell me,” Jack said in a firm tone.

“I report to my captain,” I defended mildly. “No matter what.”

Jack grinned. “I’d like to hear a report about how my hands feel, running up and down your body.” He cocked his hip at me, as was his wont. Now that I knew what he kept in his breeches, the movement seemed twice as tempting.

“I’d like to give that report.” I tipped my hat to him. “I’ll go see Captain Barbossa now.” I paused. “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too Lizzie-beth,” Jack said softly. “You should go before I start to express that.”

I walked away quickly, feeling Jack’s eyes on my body. How I regretted telling him we couldn’t enjoy each other in his cabin…