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In the swirl of passion	By : Lywhn Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 35043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter 16 – Blackbeard’s Betrayal

It was evening when Wendy finally awoke. She was still a bit dizzy, but she didn’t mind as long as she could snuggle in the cozy bedclothes, watching James. He hadn’t realized that she wasn’t asleep, and stood at his desk, clad in black breeches and coat, decorated as always with the heavy embroidery; a black shirt and a black-and-silver waistcoat. He was reading his last entries in his logbook. Several beams of red sunlight shone through the closed windows, bathing his body and curly mane in a red-gold light. Smiling, she let her gaze roam over him, and noticed again how very handsome he was.
Suddenly, she met his gaze, and as he lifted one brow, she giggled quietly. “Do you like to watch me?” he asked dryly and she nodded.
“Yes. Especially when you’re not aware.” She propped herself on her left elbow and smiled shyly at him.
He grinned, approaching her. “How do you feel?”
“Better, still a little bit groggy, but that’s all.”
With a relieved sigh he sat down on the bed, bent down, and kissed her softly. Instantly she returned his kiss and he enjoyed her familiar sweet freshness. She touched his cheek gently with her injured hand, and lay back with shimmering eyes. “Do you still want to go to the dinner with Teach?” she asked and James nodded.
“Aye. I took his invitation and you know that I always keep my word.”
She bit her lips and flinched slightly. She had forgotten about the split. “Over there you will be vulnerable and…”
His smile widened. “Do I hear worry in your voice?”
She steadied herself on her elbow again and looked at him with wide eyes. “Yes. He’s dangerous, James, and surely angry with you because you crossed his plans.”
“That’s the reason I’m going to the dinner!” he responded calmly.
“So you can keep an eye on him?” she guessed.
James made again an affirmative gesture. “I’d better.”
Wendy looked at him skeptically. “Do you have a reason to mistrust him?”
He took a deep breath. “Nothing that should worry you, my beauty.” He could tell she wasn’t convinced by this. “Don’t you trust me?”
She clasped his neck carefully with her bandaged hand and pulled his head down to hers. “With my life, James!” she whispered before she kissed him.
Hearing his words given back to him like this warmed him, but also made him uneasy. She trusted him completely, that was certain. But he didn’t know if he could protect her; and then there was still the ‘problem’ of Pan himself, now held several decks below. He knew that she would be disappointed and outraged if he didn’t tell her that he’d caught the boy. She would think that he didn’t trust her enough – especially after the fact that he hadn’t told her about the secret passage – and she’d be hurt. Besides this the boy was still dear to her, and who could tell what she would do, if—
Wendy cocked her head. “What is it, James?”
Damn it! Did she really know him that well?
“You’re hiding something. I can see it in your eyes!” she continued and he sighed deeply
Yes, she definitely knew him very, very well. “There may be a problem or two with Blackbeard,” he admitted, standing.
Wendy’s eyes widened. “What problems?”
He avoided her gaze and stood up. More than concerned, she threw the blanket aside as if to follow him. He stopped and shook his head. “Stay in bed, my sweet. You are still not recovered from the sedative.” He bit his lips, felt her eyes asking him, and made his decision. It wasn’t easy for him, because it was the first time he dared to trust someone enough to tell what should be kept as a secret. But he had no other choice. If he truly wanted to win her love, then he had to show her his faith in her, and what better way could there be than to induct her into his confidence, and what he had done several hours ago? And, by the way, to tell her that he had captured Pan, and where the boy was, which might be her only chance for escape should Blackbeard be as clever as he thought himself to be.
Hook took a deep breath, tucked the blanket around her, and sat on the bed. Holding her hand, he looked into her eyes. “Wendy,” he began seriously, “I have to tell you something and I want you to listen to me, until I am done. Alright?” She nodded, lying back on the pillows, and waited. Still, he couldn’t see any mistrust on her face, only curiosity .“Pan came in the early afternoon to the ship. I surprised him here, in my cabin, kneeling beside you.” He saw her tense, but she remained silent. “I overpowered him and…” A sudden alarm came to her eyes, and he felt a pang in his heart. Of course he knew that she cared for the boy, but it still hurt – even if she cared for him as well. “Now calm down, my beauty. I didn’t kill him. He’s alive and well,” he murmured and watched her relax immediately. “He told me that he eavesdropped at Blackbeard’s window,” he continued. “If the boy spoke the truth, then Teach plans to take over the Jolly Roger.”
Wendy paled. “He what--?” she whispered.
James nodded slowly. “You were right about Teach’s methods. He seems to acquire some of his ships by lulling the other captain, inviting him to make the next raids together – and then knock him off and takes his treasure and ship as prizes. As Pan told me, Blackbeard did the same to the captain who commanded the Revenge before, a man with name Stede--"
“-- Bonnet. I know. Teach keeps him at the Queen Anne’s Revenge.”
Hook’s brows climbed up as high as possible. “You are full of surprises, my sweet! How do you know that?”
She sighed. “As I tried to explain before, Blackbeard belongs to history now. Normally, he would be dead for… a very long time now, but I think this all has to wait until you’ve sent him back from where he came!”
Her last remark made him smile; knowing once again the feeling he could only describe as a soft joy resulting from the utter trust she had in him. Then he returned to the problem named ‘Blackbeard’. “Pan heard that Teach wants to capture the Jolly Roger by deceit, and not by an open fight. So I have to go to this dinner to keep an eye and an ear on him and possibly learn more about his intentions. The crew will be on alert as well, and I have to concede my men are quite capable in battle. Nevertheless, you cannot be careful enough, and if Pan really told me the truth, then we’re all in danger, until I know Teach’s plan in detail.”
He lowered his gaze in thought, then rose suddenly and went to his desk, opened one of the drawers and took something out of it. “Should Blackbeard be successful,” he said quietly, “then you will be one of his targets.” He returned to the bed and looked into Wendy’s nervous eyes. She looked so petit, so young, so helpless wearing his oversized shirt in the middle of all the pillows and blankets and her bandaged hand and bruised cheek. She would never stand a chance against Teach, Richards and the other buccaneers of the Revenge. And the thought of what could happen to her unnerved him again.
With a sigh, he took another step in his trust. He opened his palm and showed her a ring with two keys. “If you have the slightest suspicion that something isn’t right, or if you hear noises of a battle, then take the key and go over there to the secret passage. Smee will show you how the mechanism works to open it. The passage will let you down to the wash-house, and from there to the deck of the crew’s quarters. Turn left, and you will reach the second cannon-deck. Run straight down to the brig. You will find Peter there. The big key is for the brig’s door, the smaller one is for his chains. Free him and let him take you back to Neverland.”
Her eyes now glistening, her face was pale as a sheet. He had to force himself to continue. They were the most difficult words he ever had to speak: “And if the Jolly Roger falls into Blackbeard’s hands, then return to London. You will be safe there.”
His tone was flat but firm, and they struck her like a slap. Return to London? Leave him and simply close her eyes to the fact he might die? “Do you really think I would abandon you, James?” she answered, her voice choking.
He shook his head. “No, my love. But in this matter, you have no other choice. If Blackbeard is successful, he will kill me and he will destroy Neverland. Peter told me about the dead tracks he left on the island. If he rules these waters, then Neverland will be lost. I think that this is the danger the fairy-queen spoke of. If I fail, then take your brothers and friends – and by all my means Pan as well – and return to London. Teach cannot follow you, because he wouldn’t reach England without being recognized by the authorities. Besides, I don’t think that he would take the risk of being arrested, not for vengeance on a young girl.” He sat down beside her again and stroked her hair, feeling guilty over the tears welling up in her eyes. He didn’t want to cause her sorrow, but it was better to talk now about the harsh truth that might come, before it was too late.
He cleared his throat, preparing to launch into an explosive subject, and took a deep breath. “I know that you aren’t ‘respectable’ anymore, and that’s my fault. I seduced you and perhaps it was my biggest sin of all. I don’t regret it, I have to admit. I am far too happy when I’m with you. I would do it again, because you made my life worth living. You still do. I’m sorry to be such an egotist, but I cannot change it. But no one has to know that you came to me willingly. If you have to explain your loss of innocence, then please tell everyone that you were raped.” He laid his index-finger on her lips to silent her coming protest. “Believe me, Wendy, it will be the best. You will still have problems finding a decent husband, but…”
“I will never ever let anyone touch me like you!” she interrupted fiercely. “And I will not lie about you!”
He kissed her. “You are always so clever and reasonable, sweet wildcat. Please be so this time as well, if the time comes when you have to explain yourself.”
“But-- “
“No! Promise you will not say foolish things, only to ‘protect’ me or my reputation. Because if the day comes and you have to do it, I will already be dead, and you’ll have to think about your own future.”
“To say that I love being with you isn’t a ‘foolish’ thing!” she shot back, and hearing this simple statement again made his heart soar.
“To say it at the wrong moment to the wrong people would be more than foolish!” he corrected her seriously, ignoring the joy that flew through him when he saw her loyalty and obvious attachment. He took in her flashing eyes and saw the fright deep beneath it. She feared for him, and it was like balm for his already shaken soul. He knew that the next hours would decide their life and death – perhaps even of the fate of the whole island. He had never thought that he would be troubled by that, but – Alas! – he was indeed! And all this because of the girl sitting now before him. God, how much he loved her! And now he was forced to think about her future. “In the second drawer of my desk, I have a small bag with hundred doubloons as well as with some very valuable gems and gold jewelry. Take it with you. It will be enough to assure a good life for you.”
Her first tears fell, and every one was like a lash for him. He kissed her again and relished her firm embrace as she clung to him. He wanted to tell her what he felt for her. He wanted to reveal the truth for her, before he possibly wouldn’t be able to anymore, but he couldn’t. Those particular words were final, and he seemed to remember that when he had spoken them one time before, it had brought disaster to all who were dear to him. It wasn’t a clear memory, more an intuition, like a nightmare you don’t remember. But nevertheless, he knew down deep that these words had brought trouble – and death.
He lifted his head. “Don’t be afraid, my brave Wendy. Perhaps the boy overstated. And even if not, I am not so helpless, and neither are my men. If Teach really plans to take us by surprise, then we now have the advantage. And you know: A danger foreseen is half avoided.”
Wendy swallowed. “About Peter-- “ she began and James made a face.
“Don’t worry yourself about him. He’s safe, and enjoying a good dinner down in the brig.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to kill him this time. Not after he warned us.” That sounded convincing, or did it? He couldn’t tell her the real reason why he planned to spare the boy’s life in this particular instance. It was incredible, even for him.
Wendy smiled uneasily, surprised that James’ words did not relieve her as she would have expected. Perhaps because she was so worried about the man sitting before her. “Does HE know it?” she asked, and as Hook shook his head, she had to sigh in frustration. “And why didn’t you tell him?”
“Just to keep him guessing. I think after what he did several days ago, it will do him good to be on the other end of a prank for a change. Perhaps he’ll know now how it feels to think you’re going to die, and then discover it’s only make-believe.”
An amused smile played around her lips, but only for a moment. James was right. It wouldn’t hurt Peter to experience how someone felt in such a situation. But this wasn’t what worried her in that moment. Only the safety of ‘her’ captain was important now. “Would you promise me something?” she asked quietly, and he nodded without any hesitation. “Please be careful. I don’t want to lose you! All the gold and gems in the world could never fill your place!” It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she blushed rosily. Oh dear, it was almost an admission of love and—
The glow in his eyes, now a brilliant blue, nearly overwhelmed her and her heart skipped a beat. He touched her face, looked deep into her eyes and she thought that he wanted to say something – but a knock at the door startled them both.
“Ah, ’scuse me, Cap’n, but you want me to call you shortly before 32 glasses!” sounded the Irish accent through the heavy wooden door.
James sighed, and didn’t know whether he wanted to send the old boatswain to hell or to bless him. Wendy’s words had almost brought the fatal words out of him. “I’m coming!” he called back, and exchanged a look with his young lover. He saw her fear returning and bent down to her. “Kiss me good-by!” he whispered, but she shook wildly her head.
“No! Only ‘until later!” She clasped her arms around his neck and put everything she felt for him in her kiss. It was sweet and warm, lovingly and passionate – and desperate. She couldn’t bring herself to end her embrace or her kiss, and to let him go. She held him as if her life depended on him – and in a way, it did. She didn’t dare to think of what would come for her if she would lose him. No man would ever be able to fill the emptiness in her soul and mind that his death would leave behind.
Gently, firmly, he pulled her arms from his neck and kissed her nose. “Be careful, my love!” he whispered. “And please do as I have said, if worse comes to worst. If we really lose this mad game, then my only comfort will be to know that you are safe. Then I can die in peace.”
A sob rose in her throat as she threw her arms around him one time more, and buried her face in his curls. She took in his familiar scent – the faint smell of tobacco, ocean, onshore wind, adventure, freedom, and above all -- the man. HER man! She felt his hand and hook stroking over her back and his breath touching her jaw and ear, as he mirrored her gesture. For a long moment, they held each other, then James stood up, went to his desk, fastened on his weapons-sash with the mighty sword, took his hat and strode with long, graceful steps to the door. The coat-tails swung around his thighs, the great feathers of his hat moved with the air, and his hair – styled in the noblest fashion by the use of a curling tongs – fell down on his shoulders and back.
At the door, he stopped and looked back one last time, to let her image sink into his mind; the wavy gold-brown hair, the angelic features, her blue-grey eyes, her pouting lips and her petite body depicted under the blanket. He would do anything that lay in his power to defeat Blackbeard’s plans and to return to his little angel, his beloved Wendy.
He bowed politely to her and gave her a cocky smile; then the door closed behind him.

The sun went down quickly in Neverland – like it did everywhere in the tropics. As Hook stepped out on the quarter-deck and bridge, the last rays changed the normally deep blue horizon to a dark pink and red and bathed the snow-covered mountains, the green forests, and ocher and grey cliffs in a golden-red light. Memories flooded back to him -- that one particular evening, four and a half year ago, that he had thought he had poisoned Pan, and the boy had appeared on his ship to challenge him to the final fight – the evening he almost made the most fatal mistake of his life.
His gaze found the mainmast, where Wendy had been bound. He still could see her, resolved and calm, as she told him she would rather die than to stay on board. She had seemed so collected, so proud, he had had the urge to kill her as well as to free her from her bonds and to keep her for his own. He had planned on letting her live, but then, the choice had been taken from him. His final decision had not been made easily, but, on the other hand, he had been angry -- hurt that she chose death over him. And he’d felt that she had sealed his doom. To learn that Pan really cared for her had been another the reason for his choice. Especially as he had known that her death would bring the boy down.
Nevertheless, to place her upon the plank and force her to fall had been more a reaction of spite than a rational thought. And even before he saw her again – this almost two weeks ago – he hadn’t wanted to look back on these memories. She had seemed so lost and helpless in this moment, and today he couldn’t begin to understand what had gone through his mind to make him want to kill a female. Perhaps he felt that she would be his fate. And as he saw her emerging, armed and ferocious, out of the weapons-chamber those years ago and attacking his crew – alive and well and not dead! – he had known that this mere slip of girl, this shining little beauty, would be his kismet.
But, Alas, for the way it was now! His need for vengeance upon her had disappeared completely. It had first changed in this mad desire for her (possibly fueled by his extended abstinence), and had now made room for this all consuming feeling, which wore so many names, described in songs, verses and stories; and was simply called love. True, she had almost brought him death, but now she only brought him joy, warmth and light. Today, he was more than happy that Pan had come in time to save her.
Without her, he truly would have been old, alone, done-for. James stood and straightened his weapon-sash, looking one time more to the blood-red skies.
Years ago, the evening had flown bloody skies as well. Pan had been injured on the forehead, and he, Hook, had lost several of his men. And he saw the same red in the gullet of the crocodile, with a deep breath shortly before the mighty jaws had closed around him, cutting off the rhythmic chant of the children – old, alone, done for – and then his instincts for battle had kicked in again.
He had struck with all his might into the tongue and gorge of the giant lizard. Over and over again, he had kicked, had struck the membrane in the throat of the monster, which every crocodile possessed to shut out the water while submerged. The stink had been horrific -- old fish, carrion -- this and the wild movements of the lizard had almost made him vomit. But he didn’t give up. Like a berserker, he fought the beast which had haunted him in dreams and out, wounding it again and again from within, until it had spat him out during its death-struggle. He had found himself in the cool clear seawater.
Desperately in need of air, he rose to the surface, led by the clear moon high above in the skies, inhaled the sweet fresh air of Neverland, and awaited a further attack from the crocodile, which did not come. The lizard hadn’t returned to the surface nor had attacked him from below. Its cadaver had been washed ashore several days later.
After looking about him and under the water for several minutes, he finally understood that the crocodile wouldn’t come anymore. He then allowed himself to look for his ship, but couldn’t find it at first. Then he saw the golden shine and the glimmer in the air above him. At first not believing his own eyes, he gazed at his ship, flying through the heavens, taken aloft by thousands of fairies. It was in that moment that he knew that Pan would take the three siblings back to London. And he had hoped that the boy would resist the tempting charm of the beautiful little bitch and would return to Neverland.
Collecting his last strength, he swam to the shore where his men waited for him. Some of them had been wounded battling the children, and two he had shot himself – Noodler and Fogarty. Cecco and another of the crew had hurt themselves when they were blasted off the ship, and had been brought to safety by their comrades. Smee had swallowed too much water and was sick and the bullet of Hook’s pistol had grazed Alf Mason’s shoulder, when he’d shot at the false crocodile. They had waited for several days, dodging the Indians, and then the Jolly Roger had returned.
James would never forget Peter’s bewildered face, as the boy had come aboard the ship a short time later and had again been confronted by his worst enemy. His flabbergasted expression had changed to terror, and he had done the only thing that had made sense: he had fled for his life. Hook had soon learned that the Lost Boys had stayed with the three Darling siblings – which irritated him – but it was still Pan he wanted to kill first before he would make the other brats pay; especially Wendy. (Ha, what a fool he had been! But had he really expected to see her again as a young woman, and that he would fall completely for her?)
But even without his friends, the boy didn’t remain alone. He quickly found new boys who followed him and soon he was his old self again: impertinent, cocky and a pain in the neck. Hook had tried everything to get the boy, but nothing ever changed: every time he had him, the boor slipped through his fingers. And now, when he finally had him safely locked in the brig, he intended to let him go the next morning. And all because of the girl he was obsessed with now – the very same girl that had been the reason for all the mess.
Blackbeard was quiet right: He really had gone crazy!
Someone beside him cleared his throat and he looked at Smee, standing at his side. “Sir, it is 32 glasses now and…”
“I know, thank you, Mr. Smee.” He sighed. “If something goes wrong, then take care that Wendy can open the secret passage and that she and the boy can leave unharmed.”
The old boatswain turned toward his commander, amazement clear on his old face. “You want to…”
“… let him go? No, not really, but in this case I have no other choice.” He shook his head and sighed deeply. “If worse comes to worst, Peter will be the only one who can take Wendy safely back to Neverland, and to her home. I will not risk her falling into Teach’s hands. And if this means that I have to let the boy go, then so be it!”
Smee looked knowingly at Hook. If there had been any doubt that this man had changed, then he had heard the proof of it in this moment. Never had he thought that Hook would spare the boy one day, and he knew exactly why he had decided to do it. It was because of Wendy – to be sure that she would be taken to safety and because of her feelings for the boy. The girl would never forgive Hook if he killed Pan. Smee sighed. It seemed the old saying was true: Love could change everyone.
“Until later, Smee!” With growing unease, the Irishman watched his commander as he briskly went down the stairs and strode across the gangplank. A cool wind blew over the sea and thick clouds lay heavy over the island. Smee shuddered, and with the unmistakable instinct of his Celtic ancestors, he knew that something dark and terrible lay ahead.

Wendy didn’t know how much time had passed. Smee had come possibly an hour ago, and brought her a simple, delicious dinner – which she couldn’t eat; for she was far too nervous – and showed her how to open the secret passage, and where it led. From outside, she heard the laughter and voices of many men and the old Irishmen told her that part of Blackbeard’s crew talked and drank together with the pirates of the Jolly Roger. Of course, Wendy was worried, but Smee told her that this was all a part of the captain’s plan to keep an eye on the ‘dirty cowards’.
After he left, she fetched one of the many books in James’ library, returned to bed, ate several bits of her dinner that was placed on a great plate beside her and began to read – even if she didn’t really notice a single word. All of her thoughts were fixed on James, Blackbeard, and the danger at hand. She didn’t fear for Peter’s life. She knew that James would keep his promise and would spare him this time; even if she didn’t understand why.
She didn’t believe that he did this only out of gratitude for Peter’s warning, for their history was simply too extensive. No. There must be another reason, but right now she couldn’t think about it. There really were larger problems at hand.
For instance, she could lose him this night. If Blackbeard succeeded, then James would die, and the mere thought pained her more than anything before in her life. She couldn’t imagine a life without him anymore. She needed his nearness, his passion, his tenderness like she needed air to breathe. She needed his strong arms around her and the soft caresses of his lips. She needed to snuggle in his warm embrace and to feel his smooth skin under her fingers. She needed to hear his dark, purring voice, which could also be teasing or irritated, and still sound spellbinding. She needed to see his eyes – these forget-me-not-blue depths, which had enchanted her even as a child. She needed to bury her hands in his black curly mane and to feel it stroking over her skin while they made love. She needed his arrogant way of smiling, proving that he was the master of everything – even when he was lost in the swirl of passion. She needed his grins, his snickers which made him appear so much younger. She needed to sleep beside him, secure in his presence and his arms and to wake up with him. She simply needed him. Without him her whole world would be without color, light or warmth.
Wendy felt the returning burning in her eyes and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. The name of all this lingered in the depth of her subconscious, but she was afraid to say it aloud. This would make it final, would change everything, with no turning back. And she didn’t know how he felt for her. Maybe it was only his passion that made him protect her – or his good manners.
But no! This could not be! Not after the way he looked at her! She’d seen it, deep in his eyes: He cared for her. And perhaps more than this. It couldn’t be only the result of passion and desire that he acted so tenderly towards her, and looked at her as if she were the centre of his universe.
‘Good, Wendy. Right now, you have other things to worry about. The risk is high that he will die this night. When Blackbeard is sent to hell, then you can try to find out what he feels for you. But not right now! It could be that the whole issue will be completely moot when the sun comes up.’
With a sigh Wendy closed the book – even if she would have liked to read the ‘Humpback of Notre Dame’ in this old edition – and laid it aside. She couldn’t concentrate on it. The voices outside sounded more slurred and louder; a typical signal that the men were drunk. She rolled her eyes. There were the men in danger and did they do? They drank with their ‘buddies’, who probably wanted to kill them. Pirates!
And then, suddenly, it came: The burning feeling that something wasn’t quiet right. Something was going on -- even the laughter and singing outside couldn’t convince her otherwise. It was like a tickling in her belly that whispered only one word: Danger!
She listened closely to her intuition, and there she sensed it even more. The part where James dwelt even when he was not with her seemed to be torn. He was in danger! She could feel it with her heart and soul.
Later, she would never be able to explain to anyone why she did what she did now. She stood up, rolled up her sleeves, knotted the bottom of the shirt in her waist to shorten it, fetched her breeches and boots and slipped into them. For a moment she felt dizzy again, the cut at her finger burned, and her head started to pound again, but she clamped her jaw shut, breathing slowly until she felt better again. Then she went to the chest where James stored his weapons, opened the lid and looked down at the pistols, daggers and the bags of gunpowder. No. She didn’t know how to handle these weapons. She was only good with swords, not pistols or close distances.
She looked around her and her gaze fell on the training-sword and rapier by the wall near the library. She fetched one of his smaller weapon-sashes, took the rapier and fastened it. Binding her hair in a ponytail with a leather strap, she tiptoed to the door. She could hear the party was still going on, and she heard someone calling that Billy Jukes had won and that the loser had to pay a round.
Wendy shook her head. This was unbelievable behavior in a situation like this. James would be outraged! Taking the keys and a candle, she stepped over to the secret passage, and pulled at the small lever hidden in the wooden wall. Like Smee had shown her, the door swung open. A steep staircase let her down into the lower parts of the Jolly Roger. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her. The darkness surrounding her was only broken by the dim light of the candle.
Using the handrail, she carefully climbed down the steps, and shortly reached a second door that led into the wash-house, exactly as James had told her. Big wooden tubs stood in the small room and on a line hung several of Hook’s shirts and two breeches, as well as socks. In another tub, clothes of the crew soaked, and Wendy had to duck under damp clothes to reach the exit. She tested the handle and was relieved as it gave way.
Ever so carefully, she opened this door, too, and looked out in the dark passage of the crew’s quarters. Biting her lips, she left the wash-house and turned left. Above her head she could hear the men talking, laughing and singing, and for a moment, she thought she had overreacted only because of a silly feeling in her stomach. But after a short while she realized that the laughing voices were only Blackbeard’s men, while the crew of the Jolly Roger was mumbling and slurring.
Damn it! Something was definitely not right! And she knew with the pure instinct of a woman that time was running out.

The dinner aboard the Revenge was exactly as James had expected. Teach was in the best mood possible, had ordered a dinner that made the table groan, and joked like an entertainer. He spoke about some raids and told of a fat woman in one of the sea-towns he plundered who had run after some of his men with a frying pan to chase them away. He had laughed without end, and let her keep her goods, except for a small payment.
James could imagine the whole scene and had to laugh about it as well. After this, both men talked a lot, and Blackbeard seemed to have forgotten the whole mess from the midday. It was two hours later, as James shoved his plate away with the remark that he was going to burst if he ate one bite more. Teach had chuckled and poked his stomach, saying that there inside was enough room for another plate full of food.
But even during their talks James had never let down his guard. He had only eaten what Teach had eaten as well, and always took care that he drank from the same wine as his host. If Blackbeard really intended to capture his ship and to kill him, then his greatest chance was during dinner. But nothing hinted at a double-cross.
Blackbeard drank a lot of rum and was as drunk at the end of dinner as he was the day before. Slowly, Hook began to doubt Peter’s words, and he felt anger reawaken. If the boy had lied only to save his neck and had him and Wendy brought so much worry and heartache by doing so, he WOULD kill him after his return to the ship - even if it was in the middle of the night!
He and Teach were playing at cards when someone knocked on the door and a tipsy Richards poked his head into the cabin. “Ca… Cap’, Shir, may I come in?” he slurred and Teach started to chuckle.
“Jack, ol’ boy, do ye’ve a problem?” His words were no easier to understand.
“Y…y… yes, Shir. I beg to help myself wit’ yer wi… wine.“ He stood swaying in the door, leaned heavily to the frame and got a hiccup.
“Me wine?” asked Blackbeard and frowned slightly.
“Aye, Shir. I’ve lost - hic - six bottles a… againsht t’is tattooed guy o… of - hic - his crew.” He pointed at Hook and it seemed to be that he saw in double, because his index-finger was not pointing directly at him.
James chuckled and looked mockingly at the Lieutenant. Of course Billy Jukes had held the upper hand. He was a real gambler and Hook had often thought that the good Bill played with too many cards (perhaps hidden in his sleeves). Games of chance for money were forbidden on pirate-vessels, but to win a wine, a knife or something like that conformed to the General Laws and was a favorite thing to kill time between raids.
Blackbeard grumbled something in his mighty beard and rolled his eyes. “Idiot!” He made a gesture to one of the chests at the wall and, burped and growled: “Take what ye need. And t’is will be subtracted from yer next part of booty!”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Richards mumbled and lurched to the chest, heaved on lid open, said something that sounded like “Oh, maaaany boddlesh!” and returned a moment later with his arms full of them. Blackbeard scolded and shook his head. “Have to ranshom me men!” he grumbled. “Unbelievable!”
James had to laugh by this and watched Richards going to the door, his glazed eyes fixed on the door and with a very concentrated expression on his face. He really had a problem walking. “Be careful at the plank,” Hook taunted, “Otherwise you’ll sober up sooner than you thought!”
Blackbeard roared with laughter. “Would sherve ‘im right!” He looked after his second. “Don’t let it fall. More ye’ll not get from me or you’ve to do t’e dishesh tomorrow at t’e Jolly Roger!”
Richards had managed to reach the door and looked back. “Go… good night, Shir!” He strode out onto the quarterdeck and Teach cursed as he had to stand up and to close the port by himself.
James snickered. “This is one of the reasons, why I don’t allow so many alcoholic drinks on my ship.”
Teach only shrugged his broad shoulders. “T’ey haven’t it eashy and when it comesh up to a shituation t’ey are shober very quickly.” He let himself fallen on his chair again. “Another glass of wine, my friend?”
James nodded. “Why not?”

Wendy crept over the second cannon-deck and listened very carefully to the noises above her. The dim light of her candle allowed her to bump against a chest, whacking her left shin, and she hissed curses that would have made her Aunt Millicent faint. Finally she reached the companionway and climbed as quickly as possible down the steps. The brig was in the lowest deck of all, at the same level as the holds, directly in the bow. It was completely dark and oddly silent here; the noises of the crews far away, and no other sounds came through the wooden walls. Of course, down here, they were below the water line.
With pounding heart, Wendy lifted the candle and looked around her. When James led her to this unhealthy place, he had carried a big lamp and had ordered a crewman to light several more of them. Nevertheless, it had been almost eldritch here, unearthly and strange, even with James’ arm around her shoulders. But now it was even more unnerving.
She took a deep breath and headed in the direction of the bow, where the cable tier was. James had told her that this was the furthest part of a ship, which he also used as the brig, because it was almost impossible to flee from there. That was the reason for the thick, heavy door, which was needed to protect the ship from flooding if it was rammed by accident and the bow was damaged. And the cable tier was a very uncomfortable ‘room’. The floor was not planar, but slightly rounded, being the outer wall of the ship. It was small and the cold temperature of the sea lingered there. Of course, James had put Peter in this part of his ship. As caring and tender as he was towards her, equally hard he handled his most hated adversary. And Peter was more than lucky that he’d only been locked up here and not been killed on sight. This was harsh, but it was also the truth.
The girl reached the heavy door and pressed one ear against the wood. She heard nothing, but took no risk calling him – and possibly being heard. She took the greater key and put it in the keyhole, and turned it hard. As the lock gave away, she pulled the heavy door open and let the candlelight seep into the small room.
The light flickered into the grim darkness and revealed several rope bundles, and then gold-blond, ruffled locks. She looked straight into huge eyes, almost black with fear, oversized in the pale face. Peter sat on the hard, wooden floor like this for hours. He was chained with heavy handcuffs and chains to the wall, and even if he still had his knife, he would have no way to open them.
Since Smee and two other pirates had brought him down here, he had racked his brains as to how he could escape, and take Wendy with him. The chains were well-made and the door was locked. Flight seemed impossible this time. Still, he had refused to give up, but he was terrified that this time he would find death. He had hoped for rescue, but his hopes faded as time passed by. Here, deep in the ship’s belly, he had no clue if it was afternoon, evening or night. And the pirate who brought him dinner – and really not a bad one, which made him even more nervous, remembering what Hook had said about a ‘last meal’ – hadn’t answered his questions. He had left a lamp and had locked the door again. Then the silence had returned, only interrupted by the sound of the water against the ship’s sides.
Later he had taken off the bandage around his throat, after he was convinced that the bleeding had stopped. He hated to be wounded and the bandage remembered him over and over again at it.
Peter had listened for signals, if Hook would come. He didn’t dare to think of what would happen to him, if the pirate-captain wasn’t convinced of Blackbeard’s betrayal. Hook wouldn’t simply kill him – he would do worse. And in one thing the pirate was right: Sometimes the way one died mattered more than the result. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he had leaned against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees, and had prayed for someone to come to help him.
And then he had heard the sound of a key fitted into the hole and his stomach flipped. ‘Please, let Hook be convinced that I haven’t lied to him!’ he begged mutely the Higher Powers. ‘Please, let him make it quick or give him a sense of mercy!’
But it wasn’t Hook who stood in the entrance, but a slender, smaller pirate with an oversized shirt, brown breeches and a rapier at his side. Then Peter’s gaze found the face of the buccaneer and his eyes widened. “Wendy?” he whispered, unbelieving.
The girl gave a sigh of relief and hastened towards him. “Are you all right?” she asked and knelt down beside him.
The boy could only stare at her. He had thought that Hook would come to keep his word and to give him a ‘quick, painless death,’ but instead of the pirate-captain, it was his dear Wendy who came to rescue him! He simply couldn’t believe it. How had she managed to sneak out of Hook’s cabin, crept crosswise through a ship full of pirates and even stolen the keys which would set him free? This girl was incredible! With a wide grin he wrapped his arms around her and sighed deeply, as she returned the embrace. Now everything would be alright.
After a moment Wendy shifted and said: “I think we have to hurry.”
“Yeah! Until Hook realized that you have tricked him again and comes down here to finish me off finally. Or Blackbeard will be successful by taking the Jolly Roger,” he added, and frowned as Wendy simply nodded.
“It’s because of Blackbeard’s plot that we have to hurry. I am sure that Teach will have a cruel and treacherous plan in mind.”
“You know about it?” Peter was bewildered. “How?” he asked amazed and watched her opening his handcuffs with the second key.
“Ja… Hook told me two or three hours ago, before he went to the Revenge for dinner.” Wendy answered truthfully.
“He went do DINNER on the Revenge?” the boy gasped. “Has he lost his mind? Blackbeard plans to capture his ship and to kill him and he couldn’t say ‘no’ to a free meal??” The chains were off now, and he stood up, stretching his arms for a moment, before he rubbed his sore wrists. “I don’t get it! He really is crazy! I even WARNED him what I have heart on the Revenge and he…” Peter pressed his lips together. “He locked me up and promised me a quick and painless death, if I had told him the truth! That idiotic codfish!” His gaze found the plate with the untouched food, and, giving in to his frustration, he kicked violently at it. The plate slid clattering over the wooden floor.
Wendy took a sharp breath in. “Are you crazy? Be quiet!” she hissed and the boy grinned sheepishly at her.
“Sorry!” he murmured. “But you have to agree! I warned him, and as a reward for it, he intended to kill me. He can go to hell! Let Blackbeard cut his throat, I don’t care!” He was furious. He picked up the lamp and strode to the door. “Come on! Let’s get out of here and…”
The girl rushed out behind him. “Peter, wait. I have to tell you something.” She knew that it would be better to reveal to him that James didn’t want to kill him, but the boy hastened out into the darkness, holding the lamp before him.
“Later, Wendy! Not now! We have to escape before…” They had reached the companionway and had started to climb the stairs when Peter stopped suddenly and signaled Wendy to be quiet. The girl cocked her head and listened carefully, but could hear nothing. And then it hit her. The noises of singing, laughter and talking had grown silent. There was nothing to hear any more. Wendy had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew exactly what it meant.
And then both friends heard the dark, raspy voice of Blackbeard echoing over the ship, and even down to them: “The ship is ours!”

TBC…
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In the swirl of passion