A Bit of Norrington Torture Chapter 10

A Bit of Norrington

Torture Chapter 10

Jack walked over where James was huddled in the corner, he crouched down next to the man, put his hand lightly on the man’s shoulder and spoke, “Commodore, can you hear me?”

James stirred a little and one swollen green eye cracked open a bit and stared at Jack, then closed for a moment, then opened a sliver once again. In a whispery hoarse raspy voice that held little resemblance to the voice Jack was used to hearing come out of the man, and having to pause often to catch his breath James said, “Sparrow, for the last hour I have done nothing….. but do my utmost….. to block your voice from my mind……hoping the hearing of it…..was naught but a bad dream….. If I am indeed in Hell….. as it would seem I no doubt am…….my hope was I would be ….at the least….spared your company.” James slumped against the wall and closed his eye, “Evidently that is not to be.”

Jack fluttered his fingers around at James, “Commodore, I’m here to save you. Take you with me to me Pearl.”

James gave a weak snort as he once again forced his eye open to peer at Jack, “Trade one Hell for another? Why would I want to do that?”

Jack leaned back on his heels for a moment, he was getting nowhere with the man. The Commodore, in his muddled mind, didn’t realize Jack was really here and prepared to help him, thought he was a bad dream, Jack pouted a little at this, he had been compared to a lot of things in his time but he couldn’t recall ever being compared to a bad dream. He would try a different tack, he took the key from his pocket and unlocked the collar from around James’ neck, “I’ll be back for you shortly, just be ready when the time comes Commodore, you’ll thank me later.”

James gave a limp flop of his hand, closed his eye, and leaned his head back against the wall, “You will excuse me if I reserve my joyous celebration until this miraculous rescue of yours actually happens.”

Jack stood up and headed out on deck. Mr. Rush stepped over to him, “Yer men are here.”

Jack swayed over to the rail and saw the launch, loaded with the crates, tie up to the Raven.

“Bring ‘em aboard gentlemen.” Jack said with a flopping of arms. He turned to Mr. Rush and as he fluttered his hands about distractingly said, “Captain Randalls wants them brought directly to his cabin. Then I’m ta take the Commodore and scurry on back to the Pearl. Miss AnnaMaria will be keepin yer good Captain company for a while and they don’t want to be disturbed, savvy?”

“I understand Captain Sparrow, although I have doubts as to whether this is all on the up and up.” Mr. Rush replied. “Not that I care you understand. I’ve no great love for the way the Captains been treating the Commodore, one thing ta kill a man for doing you an injustice, but kill him, don’t torture him.” He finished with a shake of his head, then turned and walked off shouting orders to the crew.

The crew from the Pearl brought the crates aboard and stowed them in the Captain’s cabin. Jack had them carry the half conscious Commodore out and place him into the launch. As they rowed back to the Pearl he heard a splash from the stern of the Raven and gave a little smile. AnnaMaria had evidently made her departure and was on her way to the Pearl. Then he frowned as the thought struck him that perhaps it might not have been a wise thing to have left the woman alone with the Captain. He gave a bit of a shrug as he figured it was a little late to be worrying about that now.

When they came aboard the Pearl Jack had the men take James to his cabin.

He turned and looked for Mr. Gibbs and saw him by the rail with several of the other crew pulling AnnaMaria out of the water. He swayed over towards them and as AnnaMaria was brought aboard he spoke, “Well done AnnaMaria, although I’m hopin ya left the Captain in no worse shape than he was in when I left ‘em.”

AnnaMaria gave him a snarky smile and said, “You know me Jack, what do you think.” Then stalked off toward her cabin.

Jack turned to Mr. Gibbs and with an uncomfortable expression and much waving of hands said, “I’m havin a thought here Mr. Gibbs, I’m thinkin this might be the opportune moment to make way. Give the orders if you please.” He turned and headed for his cabin, as he passed Mr. Cotton he stopped, “Mr. Cotton,” then with a grimace and a half hearted flop of his hand at the bird, “and Mr. Cotton’s parrot, bring some water and bandaging and rags and anything else ya think might come in handy when one is about to be performin what will hopefully be of the healing nature of treatment on one terribly abused Naval Commodore.”

“Awkkk……Hew the line…..hew the line.” The parrot replied as it leaned towards Jack as if to grab one of the trinkets in his hair with its beak. Jack jerked back in alarm, his hands coming up in defense. Mr. Cotton gave him an apologetic smile and went off to do as he was ordered.

Jack made a moue at the bird’s back and muttered, “Bloody bird.” He headed off for his cabin still muttering under his breath and casting pouty looks back over his shoulder.

When he entered his cabin he found James curled up on his bed facing the wall. The shirt and breeches the man had on were torn and blood stained. As Jack stepped closer he could see places where both the shirt and breeches were clinging to the man’s skin, held there by dried blood. He closed his eyes for a moment as he fought back the bile in his throat and cursed Randalls for bringing the proud naval officer to this. Mr. Cotton came in and set a pail of water, some bandages, some rags, a needle and thread, and a pot of ointment on the table several feet from the bunk.

“Thank you Mr. Cotton.” Jack said absently as he continued to stare at the man on the bed.

“Awkkk…. Shiver me timbers!” the parrot answered as they exited.

Jack scooted the table over next to the bed, retrieved some candles and set them on the table and lit them to help shed more light on the man. James let out a sobbing groan as Jack rolled him over to lie flat on his stomach. He sat down on the side of the bed, pulled his knife out of his boot and began cutting away the Commodore’s clothing as he spoke soothingly to the man, not sure if he was even conscious enough to hear his words but saying them none the less.

As each little piece of the shirt was removed from James’ body and revealed the extent of the man’s injuries Jack became more and more horrified. There was not a single bit of skin that did not bear the mark of Randalls. There were the deep gashes of the lash across his back that had become infected and showed up fiery red against what should have been pale skin beneath, but was covered with dark blue-black bruises the size of a mans fist or showed the unmistakable mark where a belaying pin had been used on the man. As Jack cut the breeches off there was more evidence of the torture the man had endured. His hips and thighs and even farther down on the calves of his legs bore the mark of the numerous kicks and stomps that had been given. Jack could tell by the looks of it the man’s ankle had been broken. He would be surprised if that was the only broken bone he found. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, dipped one of the rags into the water and began cleaning the blood from the man. James twitched a little and let out a barely audible moan as the rag touched his back. Now he almost hoped AnnaMaria had left Randalls in worse shape than when he’d last seen him. It would be no less than he deserved in Jack’s opinion.

To Be Continued

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