Wild Waters (6 page)

“W
aiting for me?” Jack said, looking down at the sword pointed nastily at his neck. “That’s terribly thoughtful, but you didn’t have to do that, mate.” He tried to take a step back in the cramped space, but Benedict pressed the sword more forcefully into his skin and Jack winced. He could feel a trickle of blood sliding down his shoulder. How very inconvenient. Bloodstains were horribly difficult to get out of shirts.

“I’m not your
mate
,” Benedict snarled. “I am your death.”

“Ah, but see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Jack said blithely. “Bad news, I’m afraid. I have it on good authority that the pet beastie is the one who’s going to kill me. So I’m afraid that if
it’s
going to kill me, then
you
can’t. Savvy?”

“Stop blithering,” Benedict said. “I’m going to read you a list of your crimes before I execute you.” He fished a scroll out of his coat pocket with his free hand and unrolled it dramatically.

Jack looked pained. “Oh, dear. Couldn’t you please just kill me instead?”

“For the crime of piracy on the high seas; humiliating a superior officer of the East India Trading Company—”

“Aw, did I hurt your feelings?” Jack said. “I hear that a lot—Good God, what is
that
?” He stared off over Benedict’s shoulder with an astonished, horrified expression.

Benedict snorted. “As if I would ever fall for a stupid trick like that.”

Jack’s horrified expression didn’t change.

“Sparrow, stop being a simpleton. I’m not a fool, you know.”

Jack relaxed his face and shrugged. “Well, it was worth a try.”

“Idiot,” Benedict growled, glancing back down at his list. “Destruction of royal propertyyyeeeeeeEEEEAAUUUUUGH!” Benedict’s chilly recitation turned into a high-pitched shriek as something lifted him off his feet and threw him down the narrow stone hallway.

“Told you!” Jack said smugly, then he dodged as the “something” turned and came for him.

It looked like some kind of man-beast with black fur and enormous, bulging arms. Its nose was large and flat and its brow hung heavily over its eyes. At first Jack had barely noticed it in the shadowy corner of the vestibule; he’d assumed it was a stuffed hunting prize or a statue. That was until it moved.

Now it was moving again, and moving
fast
, with a rolling gait powered by its front knuckles. Jack sped off down the hall, his arms flapping wildly as he ran. He leaped gracefully over Benedict, who was still scrambling backward with terror written all over his face.

“ARRRRR!” roared the beast, charging after Jack. There wasn’t time to get up the stairs so he whipped open the nearest door. As he’d expected: a kitchen, enormous and empty of people. Unfortunately it had no other exits—but Jack was out of options. He turned to slam the door behind him and found Benedict blocking the gap.

“LET ME IN!” Benedict bellowed, trying to squeeze in as Jack tried to shove him back out again. “DON’T LET IT EAT ME!”

They struggled back and forth for a moment, but the pale man’s desperation won out. Benedict squished his skeletal frame through the gap and stumbled onto the stone flagstones of the kitchen floor.

Jack grabbed a chair and shoved it against the door handle just as a ferocious pounding started on the other side of the door. He jumped back and saw splinters of wood already flying loose.

“Help me!” Jack shouted, seizing a small wooden table. Benedict scrambled over to grab the other end and together they braced it against the door.

“That ought to hold the beast for a moment,” Jack said, turning with a pleased expression—which immediately dropped off his face as he saw Benedict drawing a second sword. His first was lying on the stones in the vestibule, but evidently this was a man who came prepared. His second sword was a whip-thin rapier, and it was already in motion toward Jack’s neck.

“Just long enough for me to kill you,” Benedict snarled, but this time Jack had time to dodge out of reach. He drew his own sword and danced around the long, heavy table in the center of the room. Benedict followed with measured steps, his reptilian eyes focused unblinkingly on Jack.

“Downright unsporting, that is,” Jack said in an injured voice. “I just saved your life.”

“You tried to push me back into the hall!” Benedict shouted.

“Well, but I didn’t succeed, did I?” Jack protested.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! went the beast’s fists against the door.

Quick as lightning, Benedict lunged forward with his rapier, but Jack leaped to the side just in time. He hurled himself over the table, seized a copper pot, and threw it at Benedict’s head. It was rather a Grandmama-like move, but Jack couldn’t be choosy at this stage—and besides, Grandmama had won every fight she’d ever been in, so her methods were clearly nothing to sneeze at.

The pot glanced off Benedict’s shoulder and he grunted angrily. Instead of diving over it as Jack had, Benedict ran up onto the table and jumped off, kicking out at Jack as he fell. The side of his boot connected with Jack’s ribs, and Jack nearly dropped his sword. Benedict hit the ground and spun upright again, just in time to get a pot lid in the face. He staggered back as Jack darted to the far end of the table.

Panting with rage, Benedict chased him. A few strands of pale blond hair were sticking up from his usually smooth head and a small trickle of blood ran from his nose, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes flared with hatred.

Jack started grabbing everything within reach and throwing it. Spoons, dishes, and cooking tongs flew through the air, most of them clattering harmlessly around Benedict as he whacked them aside with his sword. At the last second, Jack brought up his own sword and met Benedict’s with a resounding clang. Benedict pressed forward mercilessly, beating at Jack, but Jack had been studying his swordmanship for years—ever since losing a duel to an upstart, snobbish, untrustworthy aristocrat named Fitzwilliam, which forced him to let the traitor onboard his first ship, the
Barnacle
—a decision Jack had lived to regret.

Now he was one of the best sword fighters in the Caribbean, and he matched Benedict’s flashing blade strike for strike. They swung and pirouetted around the table, ducking under each other’s blows, leaping over the low attacks. The light from the torches on the walls reflected off their swords as they parried and struck.

And all the while, the pounding at the door grew louder and louder. Jack glanced at it worriedly, noticing how a part of the wood was starting to cave into the room. It wouldn’t be long before the creature broke through—and Jack didn’t fancy fighting Benedict and a gigantic man-beast at the same time.

With a quick twist of his wrist, Jack flipped his sword under Benedict’s and knocked the rapier out of the other man’s hands. The thin sword flew across the kitchen and Benedict dove after it, which gave Jack enough time to leap onto the table and run all the way to the farthest end from the door. He hopped off and spun around just in time to see the door burst into pieces as the beast’s fists punched through.

Roaring, the creature flung the small table out of its way and lunged for Benedict, who was still getting to his feet with his sword.

Jack reacted by instinct. Much as he disliked the whole idea of Benedict, and especially the whole idea of Benedict “executing” Jack Sparrow, he still didn’t want to see the man get his head munched off right in front of him.

He seized a huge platter, nearly as wide as the ship’s wheel, from the nearest counter and threw it like a disk. It whizzed sideways through the air, fairly humming as it flew, and it struck the beast right in the shoulder.

The creature grunted in surprise, glanced sideways at Jack, and then turned right back to Benedict. It was as if it barely felt the plate hit. Benedict dropped his sword and backed away, gibbering with fear.

“Oi!” Jack hollered, dancing up and down and waving his arms. “Much tastier meat over here! Look at him, he’s barely worth a mouthful!”

The beast reared up, lifted one massive paw, and backhanded Benedict across the face. Benedict staggered, his eyes rolling in his head, and then fell to the ground, unconscious. His arms splayed out to either side and his sword clattered to the flagstones. But Jack could see his chest still rising and falling, so Benedict wasn’t dead yet.

“Oh, is that all you were going to do?” Jack said. “Have at it, then! Sorry to interrupt!”

But it was too late to hide now. The man-beast turned and started for Jack, lumbering purposefully across the kitchen. Its black fur rippled across its strong back and its long black feet gripped the stones as it charged.

Jack had escaped one enemy—but now he had to face an even bigger, scarier one.

W
hile Jack was battling Benedict and meeting his first gorilla in the fort kitchen, the other pirates were spreading out through King Samuel’s fort. Jocard shouted orders, sending his men to capture and hold all the exits.

Jack’s pirates were less disciplined, unsurprisingly. One of them heard a noise that sounded like sacks of gold clinking, and with a yell, most of them charged off to see what treasure they could find.

Carolina, Diego, and Jean, on the other hand, stayed close to Sarah and Jocard as they ran up flight after flight of stairs. Sarah seemed to know exactly where to go, and the others didn’t question her. The distraction plan was working; they met little resistance, at least on the first few floors.

Carolina paused at a turn in one of the staircases and glanced out the window. She saw that most of Samuel’s pirates had piled onto ships out in the bay. They had the smoking decoy ship surrounded and were firing madly into its side. They were probably only just starting to wonder why all those cannons weren’t firing back.

And the answer was—those weren’t cannons. The pirates of Libertalia had disguised the ship to look well-armed without wasting a single real gun. All of the cannon barrels sticking out of the ports were actually tree trunks and branches, painted to look like weaponry. The few pirates Jocard had selected to steer the ship into the bay had set the ends of the branches that were inside on fire, making the ship look as if it were smoking. Then, once they saw Samuel’s pirates pouring out of the fort to attack, Jocard’s men dove into the water and swam back to the
Ranger
, which was waiting out of sight near some large rocks outside the bay.

The decoy ship sailed on, bobbing and weaving without anyone to steer it, and as the fire belowdecks spread and Samuel’s cannonballs began to smash into the sides, the entire ship burst into flames.

This only terrified Samuel’s pirates more, as they didn’t see anyone trying to put out the flames or dive to safety. All they saw was a fiery ghost ship, gliding relentlessly toward them. With shouts of terror, they kept blasting away at it—all the while missing the real attack going on
inside
the fort.

Carolina laughed. “It’s working!” she cried, turning around and bumping into Diego. He grinned back at her.

“Some pirates are cleverer than others,” he said. She gave him the first smile he’d seen from her in weeks, and then his heart jumped as she grabbed his hand.

“Come on—I want to meet this notorious King Samuel!” she said, tugging him up the stairs.

They caught up to the others at the next landing, where a trio of Samuel’s pirates were waiting with their swords out.

“Intruders!” yelled the short, stocky one. “Warn the king!”

The tallest and skinniest of the three pirates turned to sprint away, but Jocard lunged past the outstretched swords and yanked him back by his long, matted hair. “Oh, no, you don’t!” Jocard cried.

The other two turned to attack Jocard, but their swords clashed against Carolina’s and Diego’s swords instead. Carolina faced down the short one, who gave her a nasty glare. “She-pirates,” he sneered. “I’d throw you all overboard if I could. Girls are bloody useless.”

That was the wrong thing to say to Carolina. “You want to see useless?” she said, swinging her blade around. The short pirate barely got his sword up in time to stop hers from biting into his neck. He fell back with a shout, and she attacked again, driving him into the hallway behind him.

Diego’s pirate was sickly-looking and blond, with several missing teeth, but he was stronger than Diego would have guessed. He immediately took advantage of his position and started to force Diego back down the stairs, unbalancing him with canny lunges and surprise twists of the blade.

Meanwhile, Jocard was rolling on the floor with the tall, skinny pirate, exchanging bone-crunching kicks and punches to the face. “Sarah!” Jocard yelled. “Get me something to restrain him with!”

He glanced around, but in the melee of flying fists, he couldn’t see Sarah anywhere. Suddenly Jean popped up beside him, grabbed one of the hanging tapestries from the wall, and yanked it down. A cloud of dust rose up, making all the pirates sneeze, and while the skinny one was doubled over coughing, Jocard flung the tapestry over his head and knocked him to the ground.

At the same time, Carolina kicked her opponent squarely in the middle of his chest. He flew backwards, landing with a thud on top of his defeated compatriot. Moments later, Diego was able to drive his pirate back up the stairs with a flurry of swordplay. The sickly blond pirate tripped over his fallen comrades and hit his head on the stone floor, knocking himself unconscious.

Jean found a long tasseled cord holding back a curtain in a nearby room, and they trussed the three pirates together in a heap. Jocard carefully covered them with the tapestry so they looked like a big pile of fabric instead of unconscious pirates.

“I hope that will give us more time,” Jocard said. “I want the element of surprise when we reach King Samuel.”

“Good idea,” Sarah said, appearing at his elbow.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“I checked the last flight of stairs ahead,” she said. “It’s all clear. He probably only has one or two guards left with him, since he has no reason to think he’ll be attacked in his own throne room. This is the perfect chance to take him down! Come on!”

“Excellent thinking,” he said, giving her a one-armed hug. She tossed back her long dark hair and beckoned to the others.

Just then, they heard a pistol shot go off further down the stairs and whipped around, swords raised and ready to fight. But the bobbing blue plumes that came around the bend revealed that it was Barbossa on their heels, not another of Samuel’s pirates. He had a new bruise forming on his forehead and splatters of blood on his left sleeve, but he was grinning with the excitement of battle.

“Now this is more like it!” he said.

“Where’s Jack?” Jean asked, noticing for the first time that their captain wasn’t with them. “And Marcella?”

Barbossa shrugged. He clearly couldn’t care less about either of them.

“Who knows?” Diego said.

“That blond girl probably couldn’t keep up.” Sarah sniffed.

“And maybe Jack found someone else to fight,” Carolina suggested, giving Barbossa a worried look.

“Huh,” Barbossa growled. “Disappearing right when there’s a real battle. Sounds like Jack.” He spotted a pirate bearing down on them from a side hall and blasted his pistol into the man’s leg.

“Quickly, or King Samuel will hear the commotion and get suspicious,” Sarah said. They hurried on to the last flight of stairs, hearing the wounded pirate’s howls of pain fade behind them.

“King Samuel’s throne room is on the highest level,” Sarah said as they ran. “That’s where he always watches battles at sea.”

“Doesn’t sound very brave either,” Carolina observed. “At least Jack is around somewhere, right?”

Barbossa snorted. “Probably drinking all the rum,” he muttered.

* * *

I
ronically, at that exact moment, Jack’s hand
was
closing around a bottle of rum. Realizing what it was, he hesitated before throwing it.

“I just can’t do it. Waste of good rum,” he said, setting the bottle down again and grabbing the next nearest thing he could reach. Unfortunately, he’d already flung the thing through the air before he realized how useless it was.

The banana hit the man-beast square in the middle of its forehead, and it stopped in its tracks, blinking. Slowly it looked down at the fruit lying between its feet. With a low rumble, the man-beast lowered itself to its haunches, picked up the fruit, and began to eat it.

Jack gaped. It wasn’t a man-eating beast after all! It was a gorilla—a hungry vegetarian—And it had probably smelled the other bananas in his coat, too. Maybe that was the whole reason it had come after them.

He started digging through his pockets. Now this was the kind of fight he liked!

T
he final staircase went around and around, up a stone tower into the sky, so even Jocard was getting winded toward the end. Sarah rounded the corner at the top and disappeared ahead of them. Jocard thundered after her, with Diego close on his heels.

Carolina was the next to reach the top of the stairs. And immediately she froze.

The throne room was a vast circular space decorated with treasures stolen from ships all over the Atlantic Ocean. Giant bronze vases stood on either side of the entrance from the stairs. Rich tapestries hung on the walls, and thick Oriental rugs covered the floor. Low, fur-covered seats edged the room under the windows, which looked out on the blue bay.

Spookiest of all, strange African animals prowled in the corners and hung from the ceiling, so that the room was filled with muffled growls and hoots and squeaks. Carolina could see the glint of teeth in the shadows and hungry eyes watching from behind the throne.

But that wasn’t what stopped her.

Nor was it the twelve armed guards, bristling with sharp weapons, all of them pointed at her and her friends.

No, what made Carolina freeze in her tracks was King Samuel, standing in the center of his throne room…holding a knife to Sarah’s throat.