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The Turning Tide

Page 3

by Rob Kidd


  “I don’t like this,” Barbossa growled. “I wouldn’t go in there.”

  “That’s why you’re the first mate and I’m the captain,” Jack said, earning himself a murderous glare. “Onward, lads! To the oars!”

  The Black Pearl lowered its sails and followed the Otter into the dim passageway, which was lit with only a pair of lanterns that flickered with strange green fire. Damp stone walls towered above them, high and wide enough to admit a ship between them. The only sound was the whisper and splash of oars in the water and the drip-drip of droplets falling from the roof.

  Diego glanced back as the Pearl disappeared into darkness. Before the moss curtain fell back into place, he saw a pirate dive into the sea with the end of the fake-rock rope tied around his waist. The pirate swam out to sea with brisk strokes, replacing and rearranging the illusion of the dangerous rocks behind him.

  Soon the passage widened and the crew could see sunlight up ahead. The ships emerged into an enclosed harbor, a dazzlingly blue lake surrounded by the same thick wall. Beyond the wall, on the rolling green hills of the island, they could see ornate buildings made of red sandstone and white marble.

  Directly opposite the hidden entrance was a dock and the single exit from the lake, which led through the walls up to the palace of Sri Sumbhajee.

  Jack Sparrow was the only one who managed not to gasp.

  “Well, it’s all right, if you like that kind of thing,” he said. “Bit gaudy, if you ask me. ‘Oooh, look at me, I have lots of money because I’m such a successful pirate.’” Jack snorted. “A smart pirate doesn’t need a fancy palace. All he needs is his ship.” He patted the railing of the Black Pearl.

  Nobody looked convinced. “I’d live there,” Jean offered.

  “As would I,” Marcella cooed.

  Red sandstone walls as thick as the Pearl was wide encircled the small hill that the palace was built on. Crenellated towers stood at each corner, and elaborate carvings of monkeys and vines and icons covered every column. A pure white dome and one staggeringly tall white spire peeked over the top, hinting at the luxury inside. A pair of enormous carved wooden doors stood open at the top of a flight of stone stairs. These ran down to the dock, where Sri Sumbhajee’s ship was pulling up.

  “Alex,” Jack said, beckoning to the zombie. “I think it would be best if you stayed on board to guard the ship. No offense, mate, but I don’t think they’ll like it much if they start finding ears and toes lying about their palace.” Jack wiggled his fingers and made an alarmed face.

  Alex nodded slowly, staring off into space (as he usually did). He didn’t seem offended.

  Jack signaled the rest of his crew to drop anchor on the other side of the dock and lower the gangplank. He strolled down, hitting the solid stone surface at the same time as Sri Sumbhajee. The two Pirate Lords squared off, staring each other down. Well, Jack was staring down; Sri Sumbhajee had to stare up. But the short pirate’s glare was no less fierce.

  The Indian Pirate Lord held out his hand, palm up.

  “Sri Sumbhajee demands the return of his property as a gesture of good faith before he welcomes you into his palace,” one of his aides said, folding his arms.

  “Remind me, which one are you?” Jack asked the aide. “Axel or Pushy?”

  “I am Askay,” the first man said with steel in his voice. “And this is my twin brother, Pusasn.”

  “Yes, of course,” Jack said. “How could I get those names wrong?”

  Sri Sumbhajee flapped his hand at Jack, scowling.

  “Do not change the subject,” Pusasn intoned.

  “Not at all, I assure you,” Jack said. “Very much on board with the subject, I am. Like it just the way it is. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

  “Jack,” Billy said, poking him in the back, “just give him the ruby.”

  Jack sighed, long and melodramatically. He reached into his coat pocket and tenderly placed the ruby in Sri Sumbhajee’s hand. But as Sri Sumbhajee’s fingers closed over it, something seemed to go wrong. Jack didn’t let go. Sri Sumbhajee tugged on the ruby, but Jack hung on, gazing at it with wistful, loving eyes.

  Sri Sumbhajee’s eyes were bright with rage. He seized the ruby in both hands, and there was a momentary scuffle. Neither pirate wanted to give up the ruby, and both seemed willing to end up in the harbor rather than let go. Finally Jean pulled Jack away and Sri Sumbhajee stood triumphant, the ruby clenched in his fist.

  A hard, wicked smile appeared on his face for the first time, making the ends of his moustache twitch.

  “Sri Sumbhajee welcomes you to Suvarnadurg,” Askay said, bowing and sweeping his hand toward the stairs.

  “Sri Sumbhajee hopes you will be comfortable here,” Pusasn added in a tone that tended toward the ominous rather than the hospitable.

  The Pirate Lord led the way up the stairs. His entourage closed in around Jack’s pirates, and they had no choice but to march straight up the steps behind him, their boots scuffling on the rough, cold stone.

  The view on the other side of the doors was the most magnificent yet. Glorious gardens stretched in every direction around the central palace, glowing with gold, scarlet, and orange flowers and full of the scent of exotic fruit trees. Tiny, delicate deer darted between the trees, chasing each other playfully, while white herons hopped at their hooves and lime green parrots fluttered overhead.

  Carolina seized Diego’s hand and pointed at a large bird strutting slowly across the grass. A fan of blue and green feathers swept out from its tail. It eyed them beadily.

  “I think that’s a peacock,” she whispered in delight. Diego squeezed her hand, and to his delight, she didn’t let go.

  Neither of them noticed the baleful glare this provoked from Marcella.

  A marble path lined with small fountains took them to the palace itself. Here, another set of stairs led up to a courtyard perched above the gardens. A roofed area supported by five lines of carved red sandstone columns marked off one corner of the courtyard; the rest was open to the bright sunshine. Carolina nudged Diego and nodded to the top of the columns. Each was crowned by a carved pair of animal heads—an animal with sharp tusks and a long, dangling nose.

  “Elephants,” Carolina whispered, “I think. They look kind of like the pictures in the book.”

  “Shh,” Jack warned them.

  “Yeah,” Marcella said loudly. “SHHHHHH, Carolina.”

  Sri Sumbhajee raised an eyebrow. He had paused with his back to the palace. Now he turned and glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder.

  Jack followed Sri Sumbhajee’s gaze to the carved stone screen that ran along the second floor of the palace. A diamond pattern of small holes in the screen, each no bigger than a fist, seemed designed to let a breeze flow through. But Jack realized that they served another purpose. Anyone could stand on the other side of the screen and peek down at the courtyard without being observed.

  And judging from the sparkle of gold jewelry, and the pink and blue and green flashes of cloth he could see behind the holes, the pirates were being observed that very minute—by a curious group of palace women.

  Jack winked at the screen, causing a flurry of flapping silk. Sri Sumbhajee whirled to see what was causing the muffled commotion, and Jack took advantage of his turned back to blow the mysterious women a kiss.

  He was sure he caught a glimpse of dark eyes, lined with kohl like his own, before the hidden watchers all vanished into the depths of the palace.

  Sri Sumbhajee frowned suspiciously at Jack, but Jack wore a very convincing innocent expression.

  “Sri Sumbhajee observes that you have a pair of female pirates among your ranks,” Askay said.

  “Oh, no,” Marcella said. “I’m not a pirate! No way! I’m nothing like these hooligans. I wash at least once a month.” She patted her stringy hair and batted her eyelashes at Sri Sumbhajee.

  “Well, I’m a pirate,” Carolina said, casting Marcella a disgusted look.

  “Sri Sumbhajee is certain they will be mo
re comfortable in the women’s quarters,” Pusasn said, giving a little bow.

  Carolina blinked as his words set in. “But I want to stay with my crew! And my capitan! And—” She glanced at Diego but didn’t finish her sentence.

  “Oooooh, I would love to meet some nice, civilized ladies for a change,” Marcella said, beaming. “I’ll go! She can stay with the others. She’s practically a boy anyway. I mean, look at how she dresses, and you should see her table manners—” This was a rather unfair accusation, as Carolina had grown up in a fine Spanish court and knew better than anyone on the ship exactly which fork to use for what…not that that mattered when you were sharing three forks between the entire crew.

  “We must insist,” Askay said, turning to Jack. “It is our custom.”

  “Sorry, love,” Jack said to Carolina. “Don’t worry, we promise not to have any fun without you.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Unless there’s rum. Then I can’t promise anything.”

  Carolina protested, and Diego chimed in, but there was nothing they could do. A tall woman wearing thin veils and a lavender sari appeared to firmly escort the two girls through a low doorway at the far end of the palace wall.

  As Diego followed the others up through the center doorway into the palace, he glanced behind him and saw Carolina looking back at him at the same time.

  He touched his heart, wishing he could send some magical protection with her. He hated being parted from her in this strange, dangerous place.

  His heart banged in his chest as she blew him a kiss. His last glimpse of her was her long, dark hair swinging loose as she ducked through the doorway, and then she was gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “It suddenly got a lot quieter, didn’t it?” Jack observed pointedly after the girls were gone. This snide remark, mainly about Marcella, was lost on Jean, who stood on tiptoe to watch her leave, wringing his hands anxiously.

  “I hope she’s all right,” Jean said. “Well, actually, what I mean is I hope she behaves herself. If anyone could set off an incident, I’m afraid it’s my cousin.”

  “Oh, marvelous,” growled Barbossa. “That’s all we need: a pack of women outraged because that girl made fun of their hair.”

  “Sensitive as always, Barbossa,” Jack commented.

  Inside, Sri Sumbhajee’s palace was a maze of corridors and courtyards. Rich silk tapestries hung on the walls; inlaid marble tables and doors glittered with semiprecious gemstones. Jack could hear streams bubbling in the enclosed gardens and small waterfalls cascading down the walls, cooling the rooms. He spotted more stone screens and realized that there must be a whole other labyrinthine complex of women’s quarters on the other side.

  They were walking down a hallway with smooth, white walls when they passed a courtyard with another multicolumned enclosure like the one at the entrance. Sri Sumbhajee glanced casually into it as he walked by, and then, a few steps further down the hall, he stopped suddenly in his tracks. His aides threw out their arms and barely managed to keep the rest of the group from crashing into him.

  Sri Sumbhajee whipped around, the points of his moustache trembling violently. He flapped his hands at Askay and Pusasn and stormed into the courtyard, nearly at a run.

  Curious, Jack hurried after him. Something had clearly set off Sri Sumbhajee’s temper, and Jack enjoyed seeing another Pirate Lord mad. Sri Sumbhajee pulled a long knife out of his waist sash as he stormed across the stone paths, kicking a peacock out of his way. He was heading for the enclosure with the columns, where, Jack now saw, there was a throne set up high in an alcove of the back wall.

  The throne was made of gleaming black wood with gold covering nearly every inch of it; gold lion heads glared from the top of the throne, gold claws jutted from the arms, and gold lion paws formed the base of each leg. Red velvet pillows embroidered with gold were piled high on the throne and a fur-lined robe was thrown across the back.

  Lounging across this throne was a sleepy-looking middle-aged man with a bit of a paunch. His beard was not as long as Sri Sumbhajee’s, and his eyes were nowhere near as fierce, plus he was significantly taller than the Pirate Lord. But Jack was sure he could see a strong family resemblance nonetheless.

  Sri Sumbhajee snapped his fingers at his aides, gesticulating impatiently.

  “MANNAJEE!” Askay bellowed as they reached the first line of columns.

  “HOW DARE YOU!” Pusasn joined in. “SRI SUMBHAJEE IS CONSUMED WITH RAGE!”

  The man on the throne jolted awake and rubbed his eyes blearily. He blinked down at the Pirate Lord, who was waving his fists at him.

  “Oh, hey,” he said slowly. “I mean, all hail…how does it go again?”

  “HAIL THE GREAT AND WONDROUS SRI SUMBHAJEE, PIRATE LORD OF THE INDIAN OCEAN AND TERROR OF THE ARABIAN SEA!” Askay roared.

  “Yeah,” Mannajee said, yawning. “That.”

  Jack was amused to see Sri Sumbhajee’s face turn deep red. It looked almost as if smoke were about to come pouring out of his ears. The Indian Pirate Lord seized Pusasn’s wrist, and Pusasn let out a small yelp of pain.

  “GET OUT OF HIS CHAIR!” Pusasn bellowed.

  “REMOVE YOUR UNWORTHY CARCASS FROM THE REVERED LION THRONE OF THE PIRATE LORD!” Askay elaborated.

  Mannajee twisted around and seemed to notice where he was. “Oh, sorry, Sum-Sum. It just looked so comfortable.”

  “Sum-Sum?” Jack echoed with glee.

  The Pirate Lord fumed while Mannajee slowly hefted himself out of the chair. Looking abashed but not terribly upset, Mannajee fluffed the pillows and straightened the fur robe.

  “Sri Sumbhajee wishes to remind his fool of a brother that he is allowed to live by the mercy of the great Pirate Lord, and that he should be more mindful of the respect he owes to him,” Askay growled a bit more softly as Mannajee climbed down from the alcove.

  “No harm done,” Mannajee said, a resentful tone creeping into his voice. “I was just taking a nap. There’s no need to get all high and mighty about it.”

  “Sri Sumbhajee is keeping an eye on you,” Pusasn said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mannajee muttered. “As always.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jack interjected, stepping forward with a grin. “I had no idea you had a brother, Sri Sumbhajee.”

  “Sri Sumbhajee once had many brothers,” Askay said, “but not all of them knew how to show proper respect.”

  “Now there are only two,” Pusasn added ominously.

  Mannajee rolled his eyes, but Jack was the only one who noticed.

  “Monsieur?” Jean called from the corridor, where the rest of the pirates were waiting. “Er…Sri Sumbhajee, sir? I was just wondering whether we might be getting to eat soon.”

  Sri Sumbhajee’s angry look vanished, and a sly smile spread across his face. He poked Pusasn’s elbow and whispered in his ear.

  “But of course,” Pusasn said, straightening up. “Sri Sumbhajee will have the kitchens prepare a great feast for tonight. We will share with you the very best of Indian hospitality.” He and Askay pressed their hands together and bowed.

  The pirates were taken to a corridor lined with empty rooms. Each room contained a few rugs and blankets for sleeping on, but little else. Jack noted with disappointment that there didn’t seem to be anything worth “borrowing” in his room. Even the rugs had been nailed to the floor.

  “Well, how do you like that?” Jack said, looking injured. “No trust. After I gave them back that ruby and everything.”

  “Shocking,” Jean said mirthfully, shaking his head. They were sharing the room, with Billy and Barbossa next door and Diego and Shane on the other side.

  “Jack Sparrow,” Askay said from the door, his massive bulk nearly filling the entire doorway.

  “Captain Jack Sparrow,” Jack said absently. He was peering through his window at the flower-filled courtyard outside, wondering if he could catch a glimpse of the women’s quarters from here.

  “Sri Sumbhajee knows you are a pirate
with many enemies,” Askay went on smoothly. “For your safety during your stay with us, he has selected a warrior of the highest skill to accompany you…everywhere.” Askay layered this last word with meaningful intensity.

  “I see,” Jack said. “Well, that is very kind of Sri Sumbhajee; please convey my gratitude but assure him that I am more than capable of defending myself—as I have done on many a swashbuckling occasion, as he himself might remember.”

  “Sri Sumbhajee insists,” Askay said in a voice that could not be argued with. He turned and motioned to someone in the corridor.

  A small, masked figure appeared in the doorway, and Askay stood aside to let the warrior squeeze into the room. Jack raised one eyebrow. The warrior was tiny; no taller than Carolina. His loose pants and belted tunic were the bright orange of marigolds. A black scarf was tied around his head, hiding everything except his eyes. Jack couldn’t even see a weapon on him. The warrior clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention next to the door, staring at Jack.

  “Perfect,” Askay said, beaming. “I feel that you are much safer already.” He ducked out the door.

  “Wait!” Jean called. “What’s his name?”

  “You have no need to speak to each other,” Askay responded, “and therefore no need for names.” His footsteps receded down the hall.

  Jack and Jean blinked at the silent warrior. His eyes were dark and revealed nothing about what was going on behind the mask.

  “So, who might you be, then?” Jack asked.

  There was no reply. “Come, come,” Jack said, “if you’re going to be trailing around perniciously spying on me, I think we should at least be able to chat about it.”

  The warrior didn’t move.

  “All right, let me guess,” said Jack. “Is your name…Harold?” He checked; no reaction. “Albert? Gustav? Umberto? Fitz?”

  “This could go on for a while,” Jean observed. He lay down on his pile of rugs and clutched his stomach. “I wonder how soon the feast will be.”

 

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