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The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

John groaned his approval as Jenny first kissed and licked his manhood, then swallowed it. Her low moan of appreciation vibrated right through him, drawing one of his own. Then he gasped as she really went to work, sucking and licking, staring up at him the whole time with her leaf green eyes. "God yes," he groaned, both hands fisting in her hair. "So... fucking good... with that... filthy little mouth..."

Honestly, this was frequently the point when he started forgetting about any games. But some imp of the perverse had seized him, and he was in a mood . "That's it," he groaned, fingers tightening, "just like that. Use that... uuunh... filthy...lying mouth... aaah... to beg gor... for your... master's cum..."
 
Jenny was tempted to lower her gaze and close her eyes, but something told her to keep her eyes locked on John's. Those dark, intense eyes sent a thrill of anticipation shivering through her body. She couldn't help but smile slightly around his cock as her husband groaned and praised her. She breathed in sharply as John's fingers tightened in her hair, but kept going, her eyes large and pleading as she stared up at him in some perverse combination of innocence and harlotry.

"Please...please cum for me Master..." Jenny begged as instructed, pulling her lips off of John's cock only briefly to do as she was told. "God I...mmmm...I want your cum. I want...want it in...in my mouth...all over...mmmmm...my tits...and my ass....Mmmm fuck I want....want it in...my cunt." She moaned around his shaft, begging as she came up for gulps of air. "Please Master....I need...you...need...your cum..." Jenny's hand slid between her legs, touching herself as she swallowed her husband's cock. She didn't touch herself so much as to bring her anywhere near orgasm; that would get her in trouble again. Her eyes begged John to cum even as her knees began to ache on the wooden floorboards.
 
John gasped as Jenny devoured his cock, begging for him to cum all over her. Normally, he'd struggle to hold back, wanting to be fully sheathed in his wife before reaching his climax. But now...? Oh, God, but now?

"Please Master....I need...you...need...your cum..." Jenny's hand slid between her legs, touching herself as she swallowed her husband's cock.

John felt his balls tighten and his cock harden. Pulling Jenny back, the cried out in his release as he saw the first pearly jet of his cum splatter on her lips. He lost himself in the moment, in the sight, as his seed spilled and spurted onto her face and throat and breasts, painting her like the harlot she'd pretended to be. And he loved every moment.

Finally, he was finished. His cock, still hard and dripping with cum, bobbed before her white-painted lips. "God," he whispered, voice still filled with lust. "You are fucking amazing, Jenny Sparrow."
 
Jenny gasped as her husband pulled her face back and came all over her. She groaned as he painted her cheeks and throat with his cum. It dripped down over her breasts as his cock bobbed in front of her face. She smiled and moaned as he called her amazing.

"And you are such an amazing Master," she purred, kissing his head before licking the cum dripping from it. She stared up at him as she licked the cum off of her lips. With a grin Jenny took one finger to pull the cum off of her cheek before sticking that finger in her mouth and sucking his seed off with a delighted moan. "And you always taste sooo good."
 
John's softening erection twitched at the realizatiin that she wasn't done with the game yet. He looked down at her, wanton, one hand parting the tangle of copper curls between her thighs and the other cleaning her seed from her body, and new lust surged through him. It would take a littke while to recover - he was no more seventeen than Jenny was - but there were other things they could do.

Gripping her hair again, he kissed her roughly. "Do I?" he growled, tasting himself on her lips. "Then you should thank me."

Abruptly he shoved her back, pushing her to the floor. "Spread yourself, and put on a show." He rose, standing over her. "Show your master how much you love his seed."
 
Jenny moaned against John's mouth as he kissed her roughly. The moaning didn't stop when he demanded that she thank him. "Oh thank you master," she groaned wantonly, trying to nip at his lips but missing as he pushed her to the floor.

"I love your seed, Master," Jenny moaned, straightening her legs and spreading her thighs. "I love your seed and I love you!"

Jenny spread her thighs and slid her fingers over her clit. She closed her eyes and moaned, shifting her hips a little, mouth falling slightly open as her other hand slid over her breasts. John's seed spread over her nipples as her fingers slipped through his cum. Once her fingers were coated in his seed she slid that hand down between her legs, sliding those first two fingers across her slick clit while her ring finger and pinky slid into her needy cunt. The hand that had been there slid to her inner thigh as she opened her green eyes to gaze up at her husband with love and need.

"Master I need you," she groaned, licking her lips.
 
John fell to his knees, gripping Jenny's thighs with almost bruising force. "Say it again," he snarled, twisting her legs and rolling her onto her stomach. "Tell me how much you need me." He gripped her hips roughly, pulling her up onto her knees. "Tell me how much you need your master, fucking you right now."

He took a moment and admired her body as she sprawled on the floor before him, presenting for him. She might see the defects - stretch marks and sagging skin, and a bum grown larger than she liked. But John only saw the woman he loved, the woman who'd shared his bed and his life and owned his heart for the best part of a decade, and who had presented him with four beautiful children. She would never be ugly, or old, or worn out in his eyes. Never.

Grinning, he slapped her rear. "I said," he snarled, "tell me." Gripping her hip in one hand he scooted close, gripping his hardening penis in his other hand. He rubbed the blunt head against her, parting her lips slightly and feeling how wet she was from fingering herself and massaging his cum into her pussy. "Tell me," he groaned, lightly jerking himself against her body. "Tell me, and maybe I'll take you."
 
"Please..." Jenny breathed just before John grabbed her legs and flipped her onto her stomach. She squeaked in surprise, hands slapping the wood as she caught herself. Before she could say anything else he jerked her to her knees and she obliged, spreading her knees farther apart as he snarled commands at her.

She yelped as her husband slapped her again. "I said tell me." Jenny opened her mouth, but only a moan came out as she felt him rubbing against her. She shivered and closed her eyes, delighting in their game. "Tell me," he groaned. "Tell me, and maybe I'll take you."

"Oh please take me Master!" Jenny gasped, pushing her hips back against him. "I need you so much Master. God I need to feel you inside me, fucking me hard and fast. Please Master!"
 
With a guttural sound of pleasure and triumph, John thrust himself fully into his wife. The feel of her walls, clenched around his cock made him groan aloud. Gripping her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh, he began pounding his cock hard and fast into her warm, wet cunt. With every thrust he grunted, breath exploding from his lungs as his belly slapped against her rear. "Fucking... good...." he barked, the words bursting from his mouth with his breath. "Tell... me..."

Releasing her hip with one hand, he leaned forward and grabbed a fistfull of her hair. Tugging at it with each thrust, he encouraged her to fuck back against him as his rigid manhood hammered into her mercilessly. "Beg... me... to... fuck... you..." he groaned out, his free hand sliding forward to cup one of her heavy, milk-swollen breasts. He gasped, feeling himself pulse within her walls and feeling her milk dribble over fingers and hand as he rolled and pinched her nipple. ""Tell... me... how... much... you... want... me!"
 
Jenny cried out in wanton pleasure as her husband thrust himself into her, pounding into her fast and hard. She tried not to scream too loudly. The parlor separated their room from the children, but it was possible for noise to carry. Jenny struggled for breath as John barked more commands. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, thrusting an demanding that she beg him and tell him how much she wanted him.

"Oh John! Fuck! Me!" Jenny panted, thrusting her hips back as he fucked her mercilessly. "I...need...you...so...fucking...much!" She bit her lip and moaned loudly as milk dripped over her husband's fingers and hand. She had been leaking gently throughout their encounter but now that he visited his ministrations on her nipples it flowed more freely. "Oh fuck!" she gasped, hanging her head and closing her eyes against the intensity. "John...I...I'm gonna...oh God!" Jenny bit her lip, but remembered their game.

"P-p-please Master!" Mrs. Sparrow gasped with a shuddering moan. "Master please can I cum?"
 
By now, John barely remembered that they were playing a game. He was lost in the sight of his wife on her hand and knees, begging to be fucked as he thrust into her. "God... you're... amazing," he groaned, unsure if he'd said it aloud or merely thought it. But Jenny hadn't forgotten, and she begged him to use her with a voice that veritably dripped with how much she was enjoying herself. Enjoying him. Enjoying them. And her every gasp, every playful word begging for him, made him that much harder and that much more desperate to thrust deeper and harder. In some primal, animal fashion, he wanted her to feel him for days afterwards.

He felt her spasm around him, her walls clenching a thick shaft that had grown so hard within her that it was almost painful. "John...I...I'm gonna...oh God!"

"Gunna... gunna... what..?" he demanded, driving himself even faster and harder.

"P-p-please Master!" Mrs. Sparrow gasped with a shuddering moan. "Master please can I cum?"

"God... yes!" he groaned out, frantic to feel her orgasm around him. "Cum... cum for... for your..." He drew a deep breath, trying to concentrate on words and not mere animal lust. "Cum... for... your... master!" he got out, shaking from the effort of restraining his own orgasm. His cock throbbed, painfully, and he bit his lip with the strain. "Close..." he hissed out. "Cum... for... me!"

"P-p-please Master!" Mr. Sparrow gasped with a shuddering moan. "Master please can I cum?"
 
Jenny gasped with each thrust as John pounded her ruthlessly. He gave her permission to cum and she threw her head back with a moan. Then...it seemed...he was begging her. He hissed out a demand for her to cum for him and her fingers curled into fists as she allowed herself to relax.

"Oh fucking God John!!"

Jenny's voice was nearly at a shriek as her walls clamped down around his throbbing hard cock. Her arms collapsed beneath her under the power of her orgasm, ass still well above her head as she pressed her cheek to the floor. Her nails pressed gently into the wood as her wet pussy milked his cock. She was left panting and sweating on the floor, on her knees in front of her husband.

"John...that...that was..." Jenny struggled through the words. "That was incredible!"
 
"Fuck me Jenny!"

John's voice mingled with hers as she clamped tight around his aching, throbbing manhood, and he couldn't hold back anymore. He lost his grip on her hair and breast as his whole body arched, slamming himself into her waiting pussy one last time, and he cried aloud as his cock pulsed and the first jet of his seed coated her slick channel. He clung to her hips for dear life, hips twitching and thrusting spasmodically as he spent himself into her womb, trembling and gasping with the intensity of his orgasm. Finally, gasping for breath, he fell forward and caught himself on his hands, watching the rise and fall of her spine as she panted with the intensity of her own release.

"John...that...that was..." Jenny struggled through the words. "That was incredible!"

All he wanted to do was curl up with her now, holding her close. At this moment, the very thought of not being joined physically to her was horrible. But, the floor was hard. His own knees were sore, and they were padded with the trousers he still wore (along, he realized, with the rest of his clothes). Her own, if they weren't already, would soon be painful. So, with a reluctant movement, he rose and lifted her into his arms. "You are incredible," he told her, kissing her gently. "And you inspire me."

With a grunt, he laid her on the bed. Stripping off his own clothes and leaving them on the floor - he'd worry about it tomorrow - he crawled in after her and snuggled up behind her. "So... incredible..." he murmured, kissing her neck. "And I am so blessed that you agreed to be my wife."
 
Jenny made a small noise as John pulled out. The noise turned into a groan of relief as John lifted her into his arms and off of her knees, which had been in a lot of pain for quite some time. She smiled as he called her amazing and inspiring. Stretching her legs out to relieve her aching knees she rolled over against him when she felt her husband come into bed.

"I'm the blessed one," Jenny insisted as she snuggled against him, closing her eyes. "You are the most incredible man I've ever met, John Sparrow. God made us for one another, and we're so fortunate to have found one another."
 
Time passed.

John chose not to accept his newly found father's offer, citing the difficulties and dangers inherent to leaving his wife and children when they needed him most to start a new career in crime. Captain Teague had, naturally enough, been disappointed. But he pressed a heavy pouch of gold into Jenny's hands anyway - "Yer husband's too proud an' too stubborn ta take this, lass, so take care o' me grandchildren 'till I be back ta see them again" - and left in good spirits. And John brooded for a few days, thinking of everything that had happened.

And then he wrote a letter.

Three weeks passed, and then he received a reply. He read it anxiously. Then he re-read it, disbelievingly. And then he read it once more, eyes wide. Finally, laughing, he looked at Jenny with relief and delight in his expression. "Listen to this!"

He read:

"My dear Mr. Johnathan Sparrow,

"Of course I recall our meeting in London last year, and I am delighted that you have chosen to contact me. I distinctly recall that, at the time, I had been considering ending our business relationship with your former employer, and that you were instead able to persuade me to not only continue to supply his business but to also enter into a contract to purchase medicines from his shop for any vessels resupplying in Dover. A remarkable coup, I believe, and one not to be underestimated.

"As to finding you a position with the Company, I am delighted to be able to do so. The Ablemarle, a vessel of 330 tons and thirty guns, captained by Master William Beawes, will be making port in Dover in some three weeks from this date, and it is in need of both an assistant supercargo and a Surgeon's mate. Present yourself to Captain Beawes with this letter and my compliments, and be assured he will make good use of you.

"Your servant,
"Cutler Beckett"

Hands shaking, he laid the letter carefully on the table. "Do... do you know what this means, Jenny?" he asked, rising. "It means going to sea, of course. And I'll have to leave you and the children for a time." And then he was whooping in excitement, lifting her in his arms and spinning around. "But, I'll be earning a living for our family once more! Oh, God, Jenny! Our prayers have been answered!"
 
Jenny had been proud of her husband for doing the right thing, for staying on with her father instead of going off for a career in crime with his. She had protested lightly at the bag of gold Captain Teague pressed upon her, though only out of manners. She knew as well as he that John would never accept it but that they needed it now more than ever. She smiled somewhat at Teague as he began to grow on her and kissed his cheek before he left them.

Three weeks passed, which to Jenny's mind was both good and bad. It gave her time to take care of the twins while John was still on her job at the tavern. Still, they were feeling the stretch of the lack of income and she was beginning to consider finding another job when a letter came for John. She frowned as she brought it inside, unfamiliar with both the name and the handwriting and wondering what business someone from London had with her husband. Still she gave it to him and sat across from him at the table, watching his expression as he read for any clues as to what it could be about.

When John read the letter aloud Mrs. Sparrow tried not to allow sorrow to darken her features. This was John's opportunity to support his family, to earn more than he could working with her father, and she was to play the role of the dutiful wife. Jenny smiled and hooted in surprise as John picked her up and spun her around. When he set her down she hugged him around the neck tightly, almost afraid that if she let go he'd rush down to the docks that very instant.

"That's wonderful, John," she said quietly though with a forced smile. "Perhaps even after a few years you can come home and take a position as a surgeon's mate on land, hm?" Jenny hugged him again, not letting go this time. "We've barely a week and a half; I should start getting your things ready."
 
"That's wonderful, John," she said quietly though with a forced smile. "Perhaps even after a few years you can come home and take a position as a surgeon's mate on land, hm?" Jenny hugged him again, not letting go this time. "We've barely a week and a half; I should start getting your things ready."

John pulled her close, clinging to her. She was putting up a brave act, but... well, he'd known her for a third of his life and felt like he'd known her longer. He knew when she was forcing a smile. "I know, Jenny," he whispered, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, and kissing her forehead gently. "It means I'll have to be away, and far longer than I when I'd travel to London." Months, he knew. A year, maybe more, if he was bound for India or far China. "God, I'll miss you," he said, hugging her tight. "But... there's nothing here in Dover, and your father can't support us forever. And..." He kissed her again. "And it was this, or the mines, or the army." A sigh. "Or... or my father. There's little enough work for an apothecary without a shop."

Then he grinned. "But, the EIC! Jenny, it could be just a few voyages. There's good money there, opportunities for a clever man to make his fortune. And then I could retire, walk away with enough money to start my own business." The grin faded, his expression turning serious. "But... I love you, Jenny Sparrow. Say the word, and I'll thank Mr. Beckett for his consideration and I'll find something else. Because you are worth more to me than any wealth I could acquire. Mining's hard work, but it's close."
 
Jenny hugged her husband tightly as John whispered in her ear and hugged her back. She hadn't expected her brave front would have fooled him for a moment, but still she had to try. He had been away to London for nearly a month and she had missed him terribly; what would she do now with him gone maybe a year or more? She sighed as he pointed out what she already knew; that there was little opportunity for him here.

"Well, at least this way you won't be getting shot at like you would in the Army or with Captain Teague," she said with a sorrowful sigh. "And the mines are just as dangerous, in their own way. This makes the most sense. I'm just worried coz the doctor said that Anne...and she's comin' up on her third birthday in a few months..."

But John grinned. As he described how he could sail for a few years then retire if they were able to save up enough. There were opportunities for a clever man to make his fortune, and John was a very clever man. But his expression soon faded into seriousness as he looked at her very solemnly.

"But...I love you, Jenny Sparrow. Say the word, and I'll thank Mr. Beckett for his consideration and I'll find something else. Because you are worth more to me than any wealth I could acquire. Mining's hard work, but it's close."

Jenny wished more than anything John could stay home, that they could make their living here...but she knew that was impossible. Not without the money the East India Company could provide for John to start up his own business. She sighed and shook her head, a pain in her heart and a sense of foreboding she ignored.

"Go, John," she said quietly. "Go with the EIC and quit as soon as we've saved enough to open a shop of your own. Just...promise me you won't be like Captain Teague?" Jenny looked up at him with pleading in her eyes. "I will never, ever give you up for dead, John, and there is no one in this wide world who could make me happier than you can. I am yours, body and soul, forever, and if something goes wrong..." Mrs. Sparrow choked for a moment on the tears she was holding back. "If something goes wrong, don't you dare give up on us, John Sparrow. Coz we won't give up on you. If it takes you thirty years to get back to me, you keep tryin' coz I will always wait for you."
 
Ten days passed far faster than he'd expected. It had seemed an eternity, when it stretched out before him. But now... now the day was here. The Ablemarle was bound for Lisbon, then Venice, then Alexandria, with the ultimate goal of returning with a cargo of fine Egyptian cotton. It would be a comparatively short trip, a mere four to five months, and it felt a lifetime. They'd all walked down to the docks to see him off, and - love his family as he did - that just made it harder. He'd never been more than a three day journey from Dover in his life, and Jack didn't understand why he couldn't go with his dad, and Anne didn't understand why daddy was leaving.

"Come here, Jack," John said, kneeling and hugging his son. "You'll be the man of the house, while I'm gone. So take care of your mother, and do your chores and your lessons, and watch over your sister."

"Daad..." Jack managed, sniveling and trying with all his five-year-old heart to be a man and not cry. "I wanna go with you..."

"Your mom'll need you more," Jack insisted. "And I'll be home before Halloween, according to the Captain."

Jack sniffed, hugging his father tight before getting Anne and helping her over. She shuffled and scraped, legs braced in splints and a crutch under each arm, cheerful because she couldn't remember ever not needing them to walk. John's heart nearly broke at her slow movements and her labored breathing as she scraped along, pride and dread mingling in his breast. "Don' go, daddy," she sniffled, leaning into him. "Don' go way."

He held her tight. "I have to, Anne. But I'll be home before Christmas." He kissed her forehead. "Promise."

She started sobbing. "Don' go! Don' go, daddy!" Before John could start sobbing as well, Jack caught his sister and led her away, telling her in the stern voice only a five year old can manage that only babies cry, and that daddy was going to Egypt to see the Pharaoh. John rose, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, and smiled at Jenny. "I... I guess it'll get easier? With time?"

"Naw, mate," someone said. "It never does."

John looked behind him. There stood a middle-aged man, long thin hair spilling from beneath a knit cap, clad in rolled-up breeches and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, an apologetic look on his face. He grinned sheepishly, and offered his hand. "William Turner, Mr. Sparrow. The lads call me Bill, or Bootstrap Bill. Captain Beawes assigned me to help you get your gear stowed."
 
Jenny had been trying not to cry all the way down to the docks. They reached the docks and she let the children say goodbye first and it broke her heart. Her tears were quivering in her eyes as Anne started bawling and begging John not to go. She was thankful for Jack bringing her away and explaining that Daddy was going to see the Pharaoh. John rose from his knees, rubbing the tears out of his eyes and forcing a wavery smile.

"I...I guess it'll get easier? With time?"

"Oh John!" Jenny couldn't hug him; her arms were full with the twins. But she leaned against him and buried her face in his shoulder, letting her tears flow freely now that the children were distracted.

"Naw, mate. It never does." Jenny sniffed and looked up, wiping awkwardly at her eyes as best she could. A man with dark hair and a knit cap came forward and introduced himself as Bootstrap Bill Turner.

"Do...do you have children, Mr. Turner?" Jenny sniffed, leaning against her husband as he shook Bootstrap's hand.

"Aye ma'am, I do," he confirmed with a smile. "My lad can't be more'n a few years older than yours, and I've never gotten used to saying goodbye. Makes hellos all that much sweeter, though." He looked over his shoulder as a shrill whistle came from on deck. "Well, that's the call for all aboard. Best say your goodbyes, mate." William Turner looked pityingly on the Sparrows. He remembered the first time he'd left his darling Jane, and how much harder it had gotten once little Will was born. He only wished the family had more time to say goodbye.

"Oh God John!" Jenny pressed herself to her husband once more, hugging him as best she could with her arms full of babies and letting her tears drip onto his shirt. "It's just a few months." She seemed to be reminding herself as much as her husband. "And I'll write every week, and I'll have Jack practice his letters by writing to you, too. You'll be home before we know it." Jenny tried to force a smile but couldn't. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly a few times before she pushed herself to her toes and kissed John lovingly, desperately, trying to memorize how it felt and realizing how she'd taken his kisses for granted the past few years. "I love you so much, John. I'll always love you." She sniffed, keeping her face turned from the children so they wouldn't see her cry.

"We gotta go, lad," Bill said quietly. "We'll get 'im home to yer safe, ma'am," he added to Jenny, tipping his hat before taking one of John's bags and leading him up the gangplank.
 
John flinched as a shrill whistle sounded from the Ablemarle, barely able to believe it was time. It couldn't be time to leave already, could it?

"Well," said Bill, kindly, "that's the call for all aboard. Best say your goodbyes, mate."

"Oh God John!"

John caught his wife in his arms, holding her as best he could while she held the twins. He felt her tears on his shirt, and patted her shoulder. "I'll be fine, love," he assured her. "The Captain's an experienced sailor, and I'm not going far. Not for a ship, at least. And I'll be home before you know it."

"It's just a few months." She seemed to be reminding herself as much as her husband. "And I'll write every week, and I'll have Jack practice his letters by writing to you, too. You'll be home before we know it."

"I will," he agreed, and then he couldn't speak. Jenny was kissing him with a desperate fierceness, and he held her face and kissed her back just as hungrily. Months it would be, before he'd see her again. Months, and he wanted to make sure he didn't forget how she smelled, how she felt and tasted.

"I love you so much, John. I'll always love you." She sniffed.

"And I love you, Jennifer Sparrow," he sniffed in return. "And I'll be back, no matter what. Body and soul, I'm yours. Forever."

"We gotta go, lad," Bill said quietly.

"I know, I know," John said. He leaned in for a last quick kiss, already counting the days until he'd see Jenny again. "I love you," he whispered.

"We'll get 'im home to yer safe, ma'am," he added to Jenny.

Hugging and kissing Jack and Anne one final time, and kissing the twins - neither of whom were paying much attention - he picked up a bag. Bill grabbed the other one, and they walked up the gangplank. "It... doesn't get easier?" John said, sounding small and shaky.

"Naw, lad," Bill smiled, sadly. "But yer missus seems a right firecracker, like mine was when we was young." He nudged John in the ribs with an elbow. "It'll be a hell of a homecomin', I'll wager." Then he laughed as John flushed. "That's just me sayin' as shouldn't, though. But you've four children now. May be five, soon enough."

He led John into a cramped cabin in the sterncastle, with three hammocks and three seachests. "Here you go, lad. The middle hammock and chest is yours. But step lively... we'll be casting off soon, and you'll not want to miss that."
 
Jenny and the children stood on the docks watching the Ablemarle sail away, not turning to go home until they could see it no longer. By that time, however, John had been put to work. There was little time for rest on a ship. Bill took him to introduce him first to the captain and leftennent, then to the surgeon he would be assisting. The surgeon, Mr. Barbossa by name, was not unkind but a stern man.

Quarters were cramped and the journey to Lisbon was long. There was little time for Bill to talk with John, but they managed at meals and when they weren't on watch. Bill took John under his wing, in a manner of speaking, when it came to teaching him about the workings of a ship. When he wasn't teaching him about ships he would talk of his home and of his family, of Jane and William Jr. Several times the ship rode right into the middle of a storm, where Bill's teachings had come in quite useful. It wasn't much, but it was an extra hand on board.
 
"My darling Jenny,

"I am posting this letter from Lisbon, and hope that it finds you and the children well and in good spirits. I envy it, as it will find you long before we have reached the halfway point of our journey and are homeward bound. But pray, do not believe that I am dispirited or that conditions are poor. The Ablemarle is an excellent ship and Captain Beawes a fine man. Indeed it is only because I miss you and our children that I find myself at all unhappy.

"Lisbon is a fine and beautiful city, and I wish that I was writer enough to do it justice. We will be in port a week, selling goods and acquiring more cargo. I have also learned that a small quantity of cargo space is allocated to each member of the crew, who may wish to speculate. Most merely purchase what the Captain and the Supercargo determine to be the most fitting goods for the next leg, and thereby profit above and beyond their wages.

"Those who do not squander their wages foolishly on gambling and other diversions, that is."


The building was two stories tall, with balconies at the upper windows and red bunting hanging from the sign. John studied it dubiously. "I... what, exactly, did you say this was, again?"

A few of the other sailors laughed good-naturedly, and Bill clapped him on the shoulder. "Um bordel, lad!" he announced. "Tis the local lingo for a doxy-house. You've been mooning about for your lass for nearly a month, John."

Danny, an Irish rigging man, draped an arm around him. "An' yeh've worked 'ard tae be one o' us, John. Yeh coulda been stand-offish, like so many o' the warrant officers, but yeh've stepped up an' really worked 'ard tae larn the ropes."

"So," Bill said, gripping his shoulder and pointing, "we all talked about it. And we decided to treat you to a right royal night, getting your ashes professionally hauled."

John shrugged away, staggering a little as he did. He couldn't help it. He'd found his sea legs right quick, but his land legs weren't returning anywhere near as rapidly. As a result, he found himself with a sort of swaggering, staggering gait that made him look like a cocky drunk. "Gentlemen," he said, turning and raising a hand. "I'm flattered, really, I am."

They cheered.

"But, see, I'm afraid that I'll have to pass on this one, as I've a wife waiting for me at home."

"As do I," Bill said, looking baffled. "Me too," added Danny.

"An' I've got three," added Three-leg Willie. Everyone, John included, stared at him blankly for a moment. "Not in the same town!" he expanded. "Heavens, no. But..."

"Thank you, Willie," John interrupted, "for that utterly unnecessary view of your personal life. I'm sure we all appreciate it. And gentlemen, I'll not judge you or your marriages, I'll only observe that mine is not yours and yours are not mine - something much to be appreciated in Willie's case - and I'll manage my ashes in my own way, but thank you. Thank you very much." He thumped himself in the chest. "From right here."

Digging in his pockets, he extracted a small purse and tossed it to Bill. "But there. Have your ashes hauled on me, and drink my health."

They all watched John swagger-stagger off, reeling like he was on the deck of a ship, and scratched their heads. Bill eyed the purse, then grinned. "Class act, that lad," he said. "Strange one, but class."


"The life of both an Assistant Supercargo and a Surgeon's Mate has proved to be, for the most part, tedium. I have little enough to attend to at sea, and so have begun to learn the arts of seamanship to remain active. Captain Beawes approves, and has been teaching me solar and stellar navigation along with my efforts to learn to handle the rudder and raise and lower and set the sails. The effort involved ensures that I sleep the well-earned sleep of the just, each evening."


Coins clinked on the floor, glittering dully in the light of the lamp. John gathered in the dice, blowing on them before shaking them loosely in his fist. "Seven," he announced, flicking his wrist. The dice bumped and clattered, striking the bulkhead wall before coming up a six and a five.

The other sailors groaned. "He nicked it again," Willie complained. "Nicked it right on the first bloody cast, this time."

John grinned, moving his hands in an elaborate pattern. "My friends," he announced, raking the coins in, "it is all in the wrist."



"Since going to sea, I have seen marvels. Dolphins pursue our ship, which I am told is a sign of good fortune, and I believe I have even seen a whale. I have not yet seen a mermaid or a sea turtle, however, which will disappoint both Anne and Jack. Nevertheless I shall remain hopeful of seeing one or the other, although I will wager all that any such mermaid will pale before the light of my darling wife. And no, Jack, you are not permitted to make sick noises and demand that I stop being mushy.

"I shall write again when we are arrived at Venice, my love. I embrace this letter, wishing that it might be my love and my life and my children, and I sign myself

"Your loving husband,
"John Sparrow"
 
"Sunday
Fifth of June
Year of Our Lord Christ Sefenteen Hundred and Six

"John my dearest lofe,

"You cannot imagine my relief when your letter came in the post. I am glad you made it to your first port safely and that you are enjoying yourself. Just don't forget to come home, deal? This letter will meet you in Venice, along with efery letter Jack and I have written since you left. We shall send our next letters to meet you at port in Alexandria, and hopefully in this way you'll be gifen plenty of reading material at least for a week. The children miss you sorely, as do I, and send all their lofe. Efen Brigid and Lucy seem to realize that there is something wrong with Papa not coming home efery night anymore, for they fuss more than usual. Enclosed is a hat Jack picked out for you in one of the shops. He said you wouldn't look a proper sailor until you had a hat like this one, though I don't follow his reasons. Anyway, I hope it fits. I asked Anne what she wanted to send you and she gafe me a handful of beads, though the large dangly bit is one of my broken earrings and the stick is a piece of bone from an old corset. I didn't think it wise to send them loose so we made a project of it and strung them together for you.

~*~

"Mama Jack stealed Fwee!"

"Nuh uh!"

"It's 'stole', Anne," Jenny corrected, trying not to sigh tiredly. For whatever reason the children had been at each other's throats all evening and they'd just gotten home after her shift at the Black Anchor. "Jack give your sister her doll back."

"I didn't take it!" the six-year-old protested, stamping his foot. "She's been making up lies all day! Besides, she stole Scraps!"

"Anne are you lying?" Mrs. Sparrow was standing at the stove, wearily preparing a few fish she had picked up from market on the way home. Jack and Anne had been less well-behaved since John had left, and she knew it was because they missed him. Still, was one day of peace so much to ask for? A pile of scales went into a bowl to be thrown out later.

"No!" Anne couldn't stomp her foot without great effort and so she just huffed and folded her arms where she sat.

"Anne Mary Sparrow," Jenny said warningly. They were both lying; they had both stolen one another's toys, one had probably been retribution for the other though it was impossible right now to tell who had started it and frankly she didn't care. Oh God Lucy was crying.

"I di'n't!"

"Don't you take that tone--"

"She's lying she did too!" Jack interrupted, scowling and shouting over the baby. Now Brigid had started crying because Lucy was crying.

"Enough!" Jenny slammed down the knife on the counter and whirled on her heel so quickly both of her older children flinched. They looked at each other and tried to scramble to return their respective toys, knowing by the pursed lips and hard eyes that they were in trouble. Before they could manage, their mother had descended upon them and snatched them up to hold them well out of reach of the children. "Nobody gets to play with Scraps or Fwee until after dinner since you can't play nicely. Now go to your rooms, both of you."

"But that's not fair!" Jack protested.

"Johnathan Michael I said go!" Jenny wasn't budging on this one. The babies were wailing louder now, not helped by Anne's decision to react to this punishment by shrieking as loud as she could in as piercing a tone as she could manage, an effort which she knew would not only hurt everyone's ears but leave her wheezing, which had alleviated some of her punishments before. Jenny wouldn't dignify it with the attention she was seeking. "Take your sister to her room then go to yours, and if I hear you fighting you'll get it worse. Just because your father isn't home doesn't mean I won't send you out to the yard to pick out a switch!" As she watched her children march sullenly down the hall to their respective rooms, Mrs. Sparrow sighed and quietly asked God for patience and to bring John home soon.

~*~

"The children miss you as much as I, and efery night we pray together for your safe and swift return. Work at the Anchor has been steady and I am grateful for my Pa being a tafernmaster. I doubt I could hafe any other boss understanding enough and willing to let me break so often to feed Lucy and Brigid. It helps things that Ma is at home next door all day anyway, and she helps teach the older ones the good Christian falues we hold dear. She isn't a Gram to spoil the children then send them home to learn discipline there, and thank God. I am truly blessed in this way--we both are.

~*~

"Hey! Heyyou...J...Jenny, right?" A thin man with a dark, scraggly beard caught Jenny by her skirts and stopped her on her way back to the bar.

"What can I do ya fer love?" After eleven years at this job Jenny had become very adept at pushing a bright, cheerful smile over the disgust at some of the patrons in their slovenly drunkenness. The man produced a pipe made of cherry wood from his pocket.

"See this pipe?" His words slurred together and his eyes only came into focus occasionally.

"Aye."

"Ain't it a beaut?"

"Oh aye. Very nice piece." Jenny smiled and started to move on, but he still had her by the skirts.

"Yer prettier'n this pipe an' th' t'bacca in it." The drunkard looked proud of himself for thinking of such a compliment and guffawed along stupidly with his friends as they laughed at him. "Yer comin' home wimme t'nigh', right?"

"Sorry mate, I got a husband." Jenny summoned her best rueful smile but he still had a hold of her skirts.

"Got a husbin'?" She nodded. "No y'dun."

"Oh I don't?"

"Naw. Proper husbin' wouldn' let 'is wife work in a dump like this." He reeled a little as he tilted his head up to look at her. His eyes seemed to be headed to her face but stopped at her breasts. "'s 'is name?"

"John. He's a sailor. I work here to help make ends meet. Got four kids to support, y'know." Jenny was done playing "flirty barmaid" with this particular patron. He had overstepped his bounds and his gaze and the filthy hands that were starting to wander left her feeling violated. She looked over her shoulder briefly at Michael behind the bar, who scowled and nodded.

"John treatcha right?" Jenny opened her mouth but he cut her off. "Naw 'e don't. Now me...I'd treatcha right." The drunkard opened his mouth to say more but he stopped as his gaze finally slid from Jenny's breasts over her shoulder. She sighed in relief.

"Got a problem here lass?" Michael asked gruffly, staring down the drunkard.

"No problem, Pa," Jenny said with a sweet smile as she finally managed to yank her skirts from the loosened grip. "This gentleman here was just sayin' he was about to pay his tab and leave."

~*~

"I suppose your being bored at sea is a good thing. That means you hafen't had much need to get practice as the surgeon's mate, and so God has kept you safe. I enfy you a little for seeing the world. Perhaps some day we can all go as a family on a ship to see the world? When Anne is better and can trafel more. It's just occurred to me that this will be the first year since we met that you will not be here for my birthday, though I hafe promised Anne you'll be home in time for hers. I hope I am right.

Captain Teague wrote. He says he wants to come next month to see the children and me. If you don't want him here say the word and I'll write him and tell him not to come, but I think it would be good for the children to know him. He could be a help to us in your absence.

I must close here. The babies are hungry and the children hafe just finished their lunch. I count the moments until I can be in your arms again, John. Words cannot express how much I miss your touch, your kiss, you. Since you left I hafe had trouble falling asleep in our empty bed. Come home soon, my lofe. With all my heart,

"Your defoted wife,
Jenny"

~*~

"Dear Daddy

"Mama says after this letter we can send you yur hat and the letters I ritted before! We rite letters efry Sunday after church wile Anne and the babbies take a nap. They don't no how too rite yet so they can't send letters. I miss you lots and lots and lots. Mama ses yuo will be hom for Anne's berthday but I askd God to let you cum hom bafor that.

"Yer letter sed you hafen't seed no sea tertls. I think mabbe you aren't lookin in the right places. Hav you looked on the beech?

"Wat's the Farro like Dad? Mister Gibbs at the pub ses he nefer met no faro but that all the other peple in Egypt hav skin the colour of sand and eyes like cofee. Is that tru Daddy? Is the farro lik that? Mama ses mabbe Granpa Teeg has met him to and will tell me abowt him wen he cums to fisit next month. Granpa Teeg not the Faro. That sher wood be funny for you too go see the Farro but the faro cumed here to see you! Wudn't it Dad?

"Well the babbies just waked up so I can't rite anymor. I miss you so so so so so so much. I love you Daddy!

"Love
"J A CK"
 
"My dear Jack,

"I am so proud of how well you are learning to write. All of your practice and hard work is paying dividends that will serve you long and well in years to come.

"Thank you very much for the hat you sent me. It fits quite well, and I think you will agree that it is a fetching and handsome hat when you see your father in it.

"I am afraid I have not yet met the Pharoah, as we have not yet visited Egypt. At present, we are in a city named Venice. I think you would like it here - they have rivers instead of streets, and they use boats instead of carts. Can you imagine that. But I am afraid that, despite all of the water, I have still not seen a sea turtle. I will continue to look, though.

"I miss you too, Jack. Give your mother a hug for me, and take care of your little sisters. You're bigger than they are, so it is your duty to help them and protect them.

"Your loving father,
Johnathan Sparrow"


His duties done for the day, John prowled through the bookshops of Venice like a ghost. He couldn't read Italian, not yet, but he'd learned to speak some of that language from Hector Barbarossa, and from Henry Voss, the Supercargo. Mostly vulgarities in Hector's case. But he was learning. And the bookshops did sell books in other languages. Mostly Latin, but he could read Latin and speak it (after a fashion). Perhaps the Italians, home of the Mother Church, had learned medical wisdom hidden from the doctors of England.


"My darling Jenny,

"How I long to hold you in my arms once more, and to kiss your sweet lips. Until that happy day of reunion, however, I shall take solace in your letters and in the memory of you engraven upon my heart.

"I have received all of the letters you and Jack have written to me, and am reading them even now. I have received your gifts as well. The hat is much appreciated, as I had taken to tying a bandana about my head to ward off the sun after a chance wind carried off my tricorn...


[/i]Three days sail out of Lisbon...[/i]

John clung to the lines as another wave broke over the deck. The ship listed hard to starboard, wind and rain hammering down like whips as the gale screamed around them. "Furl the mainsail!" the Captains roared, barely audible over the pandemonium. "Furl it now!"

Another cannon-blast of wind, and the ship wallowed. John's arm lashed out, catching Three-ledg Willie as he skidded towards the rails. "Got you!" he shouted.

"Thanks, mate!" Willie shouted back.

A wave struck again, this time sending John hurtling over the side. He clamped his lips shut, frantically clinging to the rigging line in his hands, as the icy sea gripped him tight. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and feared to pull himself along the rope. He had no way of knowing what was up and what was down.

I don't want to die.

Something stirred in the water. Something huge.

You will not, Johnathan Sparrow.

He stared into the glassy green-black depths, lungs burning. The vast form moved all around him now.

Not like this.

Fiddler's Green is not for you.

Distantly, he felt as if he were moving. His blood roared in his ears, forming dirge-like lyrics.

Jack and his wife
are bound beyond life,
together eternally
to serve the ocean Queen.
The seas for their bed,
they'll hunt out the dead,
to bring to the fiddler's green.

Yo ho, haul together,
hoist the colors high.

His head broke the storm-tossed waves. He gasped and blew, drawing air into starved lungs. Distantly he could make out the Ablemarle, and feel the slack taken from the rope as the sailors hauled him in.

Heave ho, thieves and beggars;
never shall we die


"I have, however, had occasion to practice the medical arts. One shipmate of mine found became entangled in the rigging, and suffered a grevious injury. Master Barbarossa, however, is a skilled chiurgeon..."


"Damn ye!" Hector roared. "Ye'll hold yerself still, Mister Sharpe, with no further backtalk!"

"Not my leg!" the injured man screamed. "Not my leg!"

John swallowed hard, pale at the mangled wreck that had been Art Sharpe's lower leg. He'd been caught in the rigging and smashed into the pulleys, and his leg was a bloody mass of bone shards and shredded meat. He fought his nausea down. "What... what do you..."

"Hold him down, John," Hector declared. "And get some rum in him. It'll make this easier."

John sat on his chest, and forced the mouth of a bottle between Art's lips. Art spluttered, then screamed and sobbed once more. "No! NO! Not my leg!"

Hector opened his kit and began laying out his tools. "Hold him, John," he said, not unkindly. "It won't make this easier for him, but it'll make it faster..."


"I have also had the good fortune to locate a Latin copy of Opus Chirurgicum, by the great German physician Paracelsus. It is my hopes that this near-saint of the medical arts may have some remedy or offer some hope for our Anne. I also have hopes of acquiring a quantity of genuine mumia, which is said to be a soverign remedy for complaints of the muscles and nerves. If I can obtain sufficient amounts, it will also serve as my speculative portion of the cargo.

"Alas, duty calls and I must close this letter. Pray kiss the children for me, and offer them my love. And hold me in your heart as I hold you in mine, and look forward with me to the day when we are reunited and I may hold you in my loving arms once more.

"Your devoted husband,
"John Sparrow"

"PS: I had almost forgotten. Withougt clear idea of what to do with the beads you sent to me, I have adopted the fashion of some of the crew and braided them into my hair. I shall require an honest assesment of their appearance, when we are united once more.

"Love,
"JS"
 
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