Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

While he waited, he paced the deck of the Wicked Wench
restlessly, thinking about the labyrinth that awaited him. He hoped
Ayisha—no, Amenirdis, now—would be able to find out that sacred
word, whatever it might be. He didn’t fancy having to tangle with the
kinds of creatures that tended to inhabit magical labyrinths. Finally he
slowed down, then stopped, running his fingers absently over the
embroidery on the cuffs of his coat. Damn it all, he missed her, and
she’d been gone only a few hours. The thought of sleeping alone
tonight, after the feast, was depressing.
Robby joined him as he stood at the rail, watching the sun sink.
His first mate had carefully brushed his best coat and hat. His blond
curls were tied back, and his face was scrubbed and freshly shaved.
Jack gave him an approving nod. “Very nice, Robby. I don’t think we’ll
disgrace jolly old England.”
Robby laughed. “Whoever could have predicted we’d be here,
getting ready to eat dinner with royalty that have lived on this island, as
their ancestors lived, since long before Our Lord was born?”
“Your lord, Robby,” Jack reminded him.
His first mate smiled. “Any time you want to borrow my Bible when
you run out of reading material, just say the word, Jack.”
“Thanks, but no thanks, mate. I’d rather spend me leisure time, as
little as there is of it, thinking about what I’m going to buy with my share
of what Prince Shabako gives us—as well as anything I can carry out
of the labyrinth.”
“What will be the first thing you buy?” Robby asked. “I’m betting I
know.”
“Go ahead, guess,” Jack said.
“We’re standing on it,” Robby said. “You’ll try to get Mr. Beckett to
sell you the Wicked Wench.”
“You know me too well, mate.” Jack glanced at the lowering sun. “It
won’t be easy. I’ll have to do it through a solicitor, I expect. Set up
some kind of fake shipping company or something. Beckett certainly
won’t want to sell her to me when I come back from Zerzura, telling him
I never found Kerma, and that I don’t have the bearings to the island.”
“Is that what you’re planning to do, Jack? Lie to Beckett?”
“The thought has crossed me mind, Robby,” Jack said, lightly. “Mr.