The Black Buccaneer - Chapter - 36

Captain Jack Sparrow had been searching for weeks.

He had scoured every port, every smuggler’s den, every pirate-infested cove looking for one man—

Captain Black.

Or, as he was now called, Henry Creed.

Jack had even sneaked into Port Royal, slipping through the dark streets like a shadow, dodging patrols, and bribing a few talkative servants at Creed’s estate.

But Henry was gone, lost somewhere in the Caribbean, busy expanding his sugarcane and tobacco empire.

Jack was running out of time.

Davy Jones was hunting him, and every day that passed, the black mark on Jack’s hand felt heavier.

Then, by pure dumb luck, as he was sailing close to shore, he spotted a familiar ship on the horizon.

The Sea Whisper.

Jack’s lips curled into a relieved smirk.

“Finally.”

He turned the Black Pearl, steering towards the ship, eager to finally meet his old friend.

But then—

Cannon fire erupted.

Jack barely had time to shout before cannonballs splintered the air, whizzing past the Black Pearl, sending wood and rope flying in every direction.

His crew scrambled, pulling the ship away, trying to avoid direct hits.

Jack grabbed the wheel, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Bloody hell! Henry, you absolute bastard!”

But Henry Creed never fired upon him.

Something was wrong.

Jack ordered his men to raise the white flag, a sign of parley.

The cannons stopped, but the tension remained.

Jack exhaled, straightened his hat, and muttered, "This better be good."

With cautious movements, Jack took a rowboat over to the Sea Whisperer, stepping onto the deck with his usual flamboyant charm.

He expected Henry Creed.

Instead, he was met with a woman.

She stood at the helm, arms crossed, eyes cold and unreadable.

Jack’s brows shot up.

“Well, well, well... I must have the wrong ship.” He smirked, bowing dramatically. “Or did Henry Creed suddenly start wearing corsets and grow a rather spectacular pair of—”

Angelica’s cutlass was at his throat in seconds.

Jack froze.

He grinned nervously. “Right. Wrong audience.”

“Why are you firing at me?” Jack asked, stepping back, arms raised.

Angelica didn’t lower the blade.

“Because I don’t trust pirates.”

Jack’s smirk widened. “But I am a pirate! And Henry Creed knows me. That means I should be exempt from hostility.”

Angelica narrowed her eyes. “You are Captain Jack Sparrow. A man with too many enemies and not enough sense. That makes you a problem.”

Jack pressed a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “You wound me, truly. But I assure you, dear lady, I come in peace.”

Angelica’s grip on the hilt didn’t loosen.

Jack sighed. “Alright, where’s Henry? I need to talk to him. It’s important. Life and death and all that.”

Angelica tilted her head. “Henry isn’t here. And even if he were, why should I let you speak to him?”

Jack’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second.

This wasn’t just any woman.

She had authority.

She had command.

And the crew listened to her.

Which meant only one thing—

Henry had given her his ship.

That realization made Jack very, very curious.

Jack lowered his voice, stepping closer.

“Listen, love. I don’t have time for games. Davy Jones is after me. And he wants Henry too.”

Angelica’s expression didn’t change, but Jack noticed the way her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword.

“who is this Davy Jones. Why would he want Henry?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Jack hesitated.

He was many things—a liar, a thief, a pirate—but he wasn’t stupid.

If Davy Jones was looking for Henry Creed, then he knew the truth.

Henry Creed wasn’t just a merchant captain.

Henry Creed was Captain Black.

And Jack had just stumbled into something far bigger than he expected.

He looked at Angelica, grinning.

“Well now, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

Jack Sparrow leaned casually against the mast, twirling a loose string from his coat between his fingers. He had just finished explaining Davy Jones—the sailor’s nightmare, the demon of the deep, the keeper of lost souls.

Angelica listened intently, arms crossed, her dark eyes calculating.

She was trying to decide if Jack Sparrow was worth trusting.

Because he was a pirate, and pirates were liars by nature.

But he also knew too much—about the sea, the ports, the people.

And that made him valuable.

After a moment, Angelica shifted her stance.

“You seem to know a lot about captains, Sparrow.”

Jack smirked. “It’s Captain Sparrow, love. And aye, I know my fair share.”

Angelica hesitated for just a second before asking the question that had been burning in her mind for months.

“Do you know a man named Edward Teach?”

Jack froze.

For the first time since he stepped onto the ship, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was speechless.

His smirk disappeared, his fingers stopped moving, and for a brief moment, his dark eyes studied Angelica carefully.

And then—

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Now, that... that is a name I haven't heard in a long time.”

Angelica’s heart pounded in her chest.

“So, you do know him?”

Jack took a deep breath, rubbing his chin.

“Aye, love. I know him. But tell me... how do you know that name?”

Angelica stepped forward, her voice steady, but firm.

“Because he’s my father.”

Jack stared at her, blinking once, twice—then burst into laughter.

It wasn’t the reaction Angelica had expected.

She gritted her teeth. “What’s so funny?”

Jack wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling.

“Oh, it’s just that... I didn’t take you for the daughter of one of the most feared pirate to ever sail the Caribbean.”

Angelica’s stomach dropped.

“What did you say?”

Jack’s grin widened, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Edward Teach? Nobody calls him that. To the world, he's Captain Blackbeard.”

Angelica stared at Jack, her mind racing.

Captain Blackbeard.

The name carried fear across the seas, a name whispered among sailors like a dark legend, a ghost story that had become real.

And Jack Sparrow knew him.

Jack grinned, enjoying the power he suddenly held in this conversation.

“So, love, you want to find your dear old dad?” he said, tilting his head. “That’s quite the family reunion you’re planning. But I’m afraid Blackbeard doesn’t just invite guests for tea.”

Angelica’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re saying you know where he is?”

Jack tapped his chin. “Not exactly. But I know how to find him.”

Angelica crossed her arms. “Then we have a deal. You help me find him, and I’ll help you find Henry.”

Jack’s grin widened. “Ah, see, that’s where you’ve got it backward, love. First, you help me find Henry, then I take you to your father.”

Angelica’s jaw tightened.

She didn’t like the reversed order, but Jack held all the cards.

And Henry would be easy to find—he was in Havana, expanding his trade empire.

Her father?

That would be much harder.

After a long pause, she extended her hand.

“Fine. We have a deal.”

Jack clasped her hand, shaking it with an exaggerated flourish.

“Pleasure doing business with you, love. Now, shall we set sail?.”

The Sea Whisper and the Black Pearl sailed side by side, heading toward Havana, where Henry Creed was establishing his trade empire.

Henry had been spending more and more time in Havana, securing warehouses, trade routes, and partnerships with local merchants.

He had already dominated the sugarcane and tobacco markets, turning Havana into the center of his Caribbean operations.

Angelica knew that Henry wouldn't be pleased with Jack suddenly showing up, especially with Davy Jones looking for him.

But a deal was a deal.

And so, with Havana in sight, Angelica prepared herself for the meeting that could change everything.


The harbor of Port Royal was unusually silent as a massive East India Trading Company ship docked, its black and gold sails fluttering against the salty breeze.

At the head of the ship, standing tall in his immaculate white coat and gold-trimmed vest, was Lord Cutler Beckett.

His cold blue eyes scanned the port, taking in the bustling market, the uniformed navy officers, and the grandeur of the Governor’s mansion in the distance.

He smirked.

Port Royal was about to learn what true power looked like.

Beckett’s boots echoed across the polished marble floors of the Governor’s mansion as he stepped into Weatherby Swann’s office, flanked by two armed guards.

The Governor, who had been reviewing trade documents, looked up, startled.

“Lord Beckett?” Governor Swann said, rising from his seat. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

Beckett’s smile was tight-lipped, calculated.

“Governor Swann, it is always a pleasure to visit Port Royal. I wish this were simply a courtesy call. But, unfortunately, I have pressing business.”

The Governor stiffened, recognizing the dangerous glint in Beckett’s eyes.

“And what business is that?”

Beckett reached into his coat, pulling out two parchment scrolls, sealed with red wax.

He placed them on the desk, letting them unfurl.

Governor Swann’s eyes widened in shock.

Warrants for Arrest

William Turner – for aiding and abetting a known pirate

Elizabeth Swann – for conspiracy and aiding a fugitive

Governor Swann’s face paled.

“This is madness! My daughter is no criminal! And William Turner—he is an honest man! What crime has he committed?”

Beckett leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk, his tone cool and unwavering.

“Governor, I do not accuse them of being criminals. I merely need their cooperation. You see… your daughter and her fiancé have ties to a certain Jack Sparrow.”

The Governor’s jaw tightened. “Jack Sparrow? This is about him?”

Beckett nodded, his fingers drumming against the desk.

“I am after something that Jack possesses. And I believe young William Turner is the perfect bait to bring him in.”

Governor Swann’s hands clenched into fists.

“You mean to use them as pawns? You cannot do this! I will not allow it!”

Beckett’s smile was razor-sharp.

“I am afraid, Governor, that you have no say in the matter. The warrants have already been approved by the Crown.”

The Governor’s shoulders sagged, defeated.

Beckett straightened, adjusting his cuffs.

“Now then, if you will excuse me, I have a pair of criminals to arrest.”

He turned to the guards.

“Find William Turner and Elizabeth Swann. Bring them to me.”

The Governor watched helplessly as Beckett left the office, his heart heavy with dread.

Port Royal was no longer under the rule of law—

It was under the iron grip of the East India Trading Company.

The prison was damp and dark, the air heavy with the scent of mold and saltwater. The sound of distant waves crashing against the port mixed with the faint rattling of chains as Elizabeth Turner and William Turner sat in separate cells, divided by thick, rusted iron bars.

Elizabeth paced, her elegant dress now stained with dirt, her once-pristine hair disheveled. She turned sharply to William, her eyes burning with frustration.

“This is madness! My father will never allow this!” she hissed.

William sighed, gripping the bars of his cell. “Elizabeth, if my father was alive, he would tell me to fight. But your father... he is powerless against Beckett.”

Before she could respond, the heavy wooden door to the prison creaked open.

Beckett stepped inside, his pristine white coat untouched by the filth of the prison, his gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back.

“William Turner. Elizabeth Swann.” He greeted them calmly, his voice devoid of any sympathy. “I trust your accommodations are... adequate?”

Elizabeth glared at him. “You call this justice? You think you can just throw us into a cell and get away with it?”

Beckett smiled faintly, unbothered by her outburst. “Miss Swann, do not mistake necessity for cruelty. Your arrest was simply... an opportunity.”

William’s brow furrowed. “Opportunity for what?”

Beckett took a step closer, standing just outside the iron bars of William’s cell, looking at him with calculated interest.

“A deal, Mr. Turner. One that might just set both of you free.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. “You expect us to bargain with you?”

Beckett ignored her, his gaze fixed on William.

“I need something from Jack Sparrow. A very particular item.”

William stiffened. “Jack? What do you want from him?”

Beckett’s smile grew colder.

“His compass.”

The words hung in the air.

Elizabeth’s frown deepened. “A compass? Jack's compass? What use is that to you?”

Beckett gave her a look of amusement, as if she had asked a foolish question.

“Let’s just say… it has the ability to point me to something I desire. And I have many desires.”

William’s hands tightened into fists. “And if I get you the compass?”

Beckett tilted his head slightly, as if considering the weight of the words.

“Then I will revoke your arrest warrants. You will both be free to live your lives as you please.”

Elizabeth scoffed. “And we’re just supposed to trust your word?”

Beckett chuckled softly. “Of course not, Miss Swann. That is why only one of you will go. The other... stays here as my insurance.”

A heavy silence settled in the cell.

William’s heart pounded.

He didn’t trust Beckett, but what choice did he have? Henry Creed was nowhere to be found, the Port Royal navy was powerless, and Elizabeth was locked in a cell because of him.

If he didn’t accept, she would rot in prison.

Beckett took a single step forward, voice smooth as silk.

“What will it be, Mr. Turner? Will you retrieve the compass... or shall I leave Miss Swann to the mercy of my prison guards?”

William looked at Elizabeth, his jaw clenched.

He hated this.

But he had no choice.

“I’ll do it.” he said, his voice firm.

Elizabeth shook her head, stepping forward. “William, no—”

But it was too late.

Beckett’s smile widened, pleased.

“Good choice. You have until the next full moon. Fail... and Miss Swann stays here indefinitely.”

He turned on his heel, striding toward the door, his boots clicking against the stone floor.

As he left, his voice echoed through the cell—

“Best hurry, Mr. Turner. Jack Sparrow isn’t exactly the easiest man to find.”