by Arnie
However, he was a writer. And, fortunately for him, a friend of his, John Walter, was editor of the recently founded English newspaper, The Times. Determined to make his newspaper the envy of the civilised world, John had contacted Blair and asked him to travel to Port Royal and write an article on the men who had turned the port from being a den of pirates into being the envy of the Caribbean. Naturally, all of his travelling expenses had already been covered and Blair had received a handsome advance on his writer's fee.
He smiled. John had made it sound as though Blair were doing him a favour but he knew that it was the other way around. Although he'd had a few articles published before, he could not flatter himself into believing that he was such a sought after writer that newspapers were lining up to ask him to write for them. No, John had offered this temporary position to an old friend who was sorely in need of funds, although the fact that Blair had never yet let him down was undoubtedly enough to ensure that the favour was offered in the first place.
And now, Blair was about to arrive at his destination. In his pocket he carried letters of introduction to the Governor of Port Royal, and he had hopes that Governor Swann would introduce him to the high ranking officers who ran the garrison stationed here.
Once off the ship, he left his bags at a respectable looking inn and hired a hackney carriage to carry him to the Governor's mansion. The Times' writers must arrive in style, John had insisted, although he added that it would be well not to give too much of a tip to the driver.
Peering through the window, Blair gasped when he saw the governor's mansion. It was easily the most impressive building in Port Royal, although it was situated a few miles from the fortified town itself.
Once out of the carriage, and unhappily watching as it returned to Port Royal without him, he took a deep breath and approached the front door. He'd never been good at facing butlers in impressive mansions - although he hadn't had to face that many before. Adjusting the modest ruffles at his throat and wrists, he knocked at the door and assumed the air of a writer for a reputable paper. Even if he himself would not be welcome, his letters of introduction should ensure his entrance.
He stiffened his backbone as a most impressive butler, obviously chosen to go with the building, opened the door.
"May I help you, sir?" The raised eyebrow and accent on the 'sir' would have betrayed a well-restrained sneer even if Blair hadn't been able to discern it.
"My name is Blair Sandburg. I believe that Governor Swann is expecting me."
The sneer disappeared. "Ah, yes, sir. If you will follow me, I will inform his Governorship of your arrival."
Blair was unsure whether or not to thank the man but he did anyway. Civility cost nothing and it always paid to have the servants on your side or, if you couldn't manage that, to at least avoid antagonising them.
"Ah! Mr. Sandburg!" The governor surged towards him with all the friendliness of a puppy. "Mr. Walter said that you'd be arriving today and he was right! Excellent man!" There was a pause as the governor shook his hand enthusiastically.
"How do you do, Governor Swann?" Blair flexed his hand unobtrusively as he tried to get some feeling back into it.
"Capital, man, capital! Where are your bags? Has Sutton taken them up to the blue room already?"
"I left them at the King's Arms. I assumed -"
"Nonsense! Of course, you'll stay here. Sutton!" The governor rushed to the door. "Send the carriage to the King's Arms and collect Mr. Sandburg's bags."
"Very good, sir."
"I - I really don't want to put you out -"
"It's no trouble at all! We have plenty of rooms! Now," he wrung his hands happily, "where would you like to start?"
By the time Sutton returned to remind the governor and his guest that it was time to dress for dinner, an almost breathless Blair had heard all about the governor's early life and military career before being given the charge of Port Royal. He'd thought that he could talk non-stop but the governor had him beat! Any comment sent the governor careering off along a diversion that was as entertaining as it was interesting.
Dinner passed in a blur of several courses, different wines and an array of cutlery that made Blair watch his host carefully in order to figure out which piece of silverware was the correct one to use. And the whole meal was accompanied by a non-stop biography of the governor's life thus far. The governor's daughter, a very lovely Miss Elizabeth Swann, seemed used to her father's monologues and only interrupted to draw him back on course when he threatened to sink into a whirlpool of diversions that had no end.
After her third such intervention, Blair bit his lip and gazed sternly into his dessert. He would not laugh. To do so would be to insult his host and Blair liked the man too much to do that even if convention had not forbade it.
"I'm rambling again!"
He looked up into the smiling face of his host.
"Do forgive me, dear boy. I have a terrible habit of running on."
"Not at all, sir. It was most entertaining," Blair assured him sincerely.
"You're being polite! My feelings won't be hurt, I assure you. Elizabeth has told me time and again that I talk too much!"
"As it's a fault that I share, sir, I assure you, I do not object to your talking. In any case, as I am here to write about you, your men and Port Royal itself, it would be most unfortunate for me if you did not talk!"
"Ah! There, you see, Elizabeth? Sometimes talking is to be encouraged!" He nodded at his smiling daughter then turned back. "Have I missed anything? Do you have any questions left to ask?"
Blair laughed. "I do not think so, sir, you were most comprehensive. I would like to take some time after dinner, if I may, to make notes of what you have told me so far."
"Of course, of course! Take all the time you need! Tomorrow, we'll be meeting Commodore Norrington..."
He threw a glance at his daughter as he said this and Blair's interest was piqued. Obviously the governor wasn't above a spot of matchmaking.
"...who is in charge of the Navy here. The day after will be spent with the members of the Watch. Admirable men! They keep order here in Port Royal, you know." He shook his head. "If it weren't for them, we'd be overrun by pirates. Port Royal used to be as bad as Tortuga but now, well, it's so respectable that ladies can walk about without armed guards!"
"I have heard that pirates were very active in this area," Blair admitted.
"Active! That's one way to describe it! Port Royal was infested with them, positively infested. However, thanks to the Watch they're all but gone now. Naturally, we still catch them now and again, but most pirates know to avoid Port Royal unless they want to do the hangman's dance!"
~'~
Like most days in Port Royal, the next day was bright and sunny as Blair and the governor went to the fortified castle that dominated the port. Miss Swann accompanied them, although Blair could tell she was more interested in the local blacksmith's shop than she was in Commodore Norrington. The commodore, however, was very interested in Miss Swann and Blair was positive that Norrington would have preferred it if he, Blair, had taken a walk with the governor, instead of Miss Swann being escorted down to the town.
Once the pair had disappeared out of sight, the commodore's gaze turned back to Blair and he found himself being looked up and down.
There was a second's pause as each of them recognised the empathic ability hidden within the other, then Blair exclaimed, "You're a Guide!"
One eyebrow was raised. "As are you, Mr. Sandburg."
Blair nodded, then began, "Are you -" He broke off. Guide etiquette insisted that he did not demand information of another Guide about the state of his or her bond.
"Bonded?" Norrington continued. "No, I am not." He raised an eyebrow again, the question obvious.
Blair shook his head. He did not intend to bond with anyone, although he had no intention of divulging that to the commodore. Military Sentinels and Guides tended to take a dim view of those who did not intend to 'do their duty' and bond when a suitable partner appeared. "Do you...intend to bond?" he asked, as delicately as possible.
"Naturally, when my Sentinel appears, I will bond with him. Of course, there are a few provisos."
"Provisos...." Blair repeated blankly. The commodore had a list of conditions his Sentinel had to fulfil?
"It would be most awkward if my Sentinel were to be an ordinary sailor. I am, after all, an officer."
"Of course!" Blair understood now; social niceties must be observed at all times. As the Sentinel would nominally be in charge of the partnership, you couldn't have a Guide who insisted on being saluted every five minutes.
"However, I would not object if my Sentinel were to be, say, a respectable member of the town."
Blair nodded. He could not see such a rigidly correct officer as Commodore Norrington deigning to bond with anyone but a respectable person, and he would obviously prefer an officer to a civilian.
"My intended Sentinel, however, is neither here nor there. You have some questions to ask of me, I believe."
"Yes." Blair dismissed his thoughts of Sentinels and Guides and dragged his mind back to the interview he had planned. "I'd like to get some background information, if I may, before we move onto your early career."
The commodore nodded and settled back in his chair, a resigned look on his face.
Blair smiled, feeling nervous, and began to ask questions. Hopefully, the members of the Watch would be more like the governor when it came to interviewing them.
~'~
By the time Governor Swann and his daughter had returned to take tea with Commodore Norrington, Blair felt as though he'd been put through a wringer. Every piece of information had had to be extracted with numerous questions. Blair sincerely pitied anyone who attempted to interrogate that military officer; he was naturally close-mouthed.
Even with the lovely Miss Swann, there was an economy of words. Blair was more than happy to sit back and allow the governor to dominate the conversation, while he watched the subtle courtship being enacted before him, and picked up more about the commodore's character than his brief responses to Blair's questions could possibly portray. Although Norrington would have died rather than admit it, Blair could tell that he was in love with Miss Swann, although her affection for him seemed to spring from having known him for so long instead of a genuine love of his character. In spite of his taciturn nature, Blair had a liking for the steadfast officer and hoped that he was not headed for a disappointment in that area.
It was obvious that the governor was very much in favour of a match between his only child and one of the youngest commodores alive. Few men had reached the heady heights of that rank at such an early age and the governor seemed disinclined to let such a prize slip through his daughter's fingers.
All too soon, duty called the commodore away and the party were left to return to the Governor's mansion. Miss Swann had an air of relief that was obvious to Blair, although he was positive the garrulous governor had no idea of it.
As the carriage made its way through the town once more, Miss Swann leaned forward, a blinding smile on her face. Hurriedly glancing over, Blair caught sight of a young dark-haired man with a similar smile on his face and knew that the commodore was indeed headed for a broken heart.
~'~
The conversation that evening veered from Commodore Norrington and his glittering prospects to the officers who headed the Watch under Governor Swann's command. The governor admitted freely that he left all aspects of the Watch to their admirable Captain, a man called Simon Banks who was, to Blair's surprise, a black man.
"He was a slave?!"
"No, no, dear boy! Captain Banks has never been a slave. His father was, I believe, an emancipated slave but Captain Banks was born a free man. He's the first black man to be a captain, you know. Admirable man! No pirate would dare stand against him. The Watch is safe in his hands, I assure you! In fact," the governor leaned across the table and spoke confidentially, "it's said that he and Captain Ellison were the ones who captured the dread Pirate Roberts!"
Blair's fork hit his plate with a clatter. Everyone had heard of the dread Pirate Roberts whose exploits had left many a seafarer trembling with fear that they might run into the fearsome pirate who never left captives alive. His capture and death had relieved not only the law-abiding communities he had terrorised, but also his rival pirates who had lost many a ship to that pirate. The dread Pirate Roberts was not a man who believed in the accord. It was rumoured that the first attempt to parley with him had left the attempted parleyer fit only for a lunatic asylum. After that, no pirate was willing to attempt parley in case it was true.
"Now you see why Port Royal is such a safe place to be!" the governor told him. "Captain Ellison, too, is a fine man. His father is, I believe, a lord, although Captain Ellison has never boasted of his connections. Very modest man - he was a very good soldier, as was Captain Banks!" He nodded and smiled. "We're lucky to have them heading the Watch."
Blair blinked down at his plate. Port Royal was certainly unusual, he'd admit that.
~'~
"Now then, dear boy, this is Captain Banks, and this is Captain Ellison."
Blair shook hands with the tall black man who was looming over him. He could see why pirates tended to give Port Royal a wide berth; if he'd had a guilty conscience, he would have done the same thing rather than run the risk of offending the overly tall Captain Simon Banks. Turning, he went to offer his hand to the other captain, who was only a couple of inches shorter than his companion, but stopped. Captain Ellison's eyes were fixed on him in a narrow glare, and his nostrils were flared as if he was scenting the air. And...was the man growling at him?
His heart leapt into his throat as his mind caught up with events. Sentinel!
As Ellison moved forward, he reared back and retreated to behind one of Governor Swann's elegant chaise-longues.
"Guide!"
"No!"
"Is there something wrong?" Typically, the governor seemed to be the only one present who hadn't realised just what was going on.
"Bond, Guide!"
"Look, you don't want me!"
"Oh my goodness," the governor had caught up at last, "is Mr. Sandburg a Guide? How exciting!"
"We'd be better off staying out of their way." At least Captain Banks seemed to realise that this was neither the time nor the place for Governor Swann's enthusiasm - although Blair would have appreciated some help in dealing with the feral Sentinel.
As Captain Ellison moved forward, Blair backed off yet again, trying to keep away from the walls. The Sentinel would try to trap him.
"I'm not the right Guide for you - really! The Guide you want is Commodore Norrington!" He heard an exclamation from the governor as that piece of news sank in. Obviously Norrington hadn't exactly spread it around that he was a Guide. "He's from a good family - so are you! He's in the Navy, you were in the military. I'm telling you, you have so much in common, you're perfect for each other."
The Sentinel wasn't talking as he moved forward, angling his approach in an obvious attempt to back his chosen Guide into a corner.
"You're both based in Port Royal as well. What a coincidence!" Blair was seriously beginning to panic now as nothing seemed to be putting the Sentinel off. "You really don't want me. I rarely stay in one place longer than a month. And I have no idea who my father is!" He could hear the governor tut tutting in the background at this scandalous revelation but the Sentinel didn't even blink.
Finally, he was backed up to a large table which had a vase of flowers on it. Desperate, and not really caring that the vase looked valuable, he grabbed it and hurled it at the Sentinel.
The governor made a horrified noise then visibly relaxed as Captain Ellison caught the vase safely. There was a second's pause as Blair almost gave up hope, then the Sentinel began to sneeze.
Taking his chance, he fled. From the sound of smashing china and the cries of distress from Governor Swann, he guessed that the Sentinel had dropped the vase after all, but then he was out of the front door and running for his life.
~'~
By the time he reached Port Royal, Blair looked dishevelled and windblown. Unable to stop and catch his breath, he had run all the way, although he was careful to keep off the main road in case the Sentinel had recovered and was trying to hunt him down. As the two captains would have visited the governor on horseback or by carriage, Blair was definitely at a disadvantage as he was on foot.
As he approached the harbour, he turned several plans over in his mind. His first objective, he decided, was to find a ship that was leaving soon and buy passage away from Port Royal. Hopefully, he would have time to return to the governor's mansion to collect his things, however, as he had all of his money safely on his person, he was prepared to do without them and simply buy what he would need for the journey home. He hoped that John would not be too angry at him for abandoning his report partway through. He had enough notes to write up the majority of the article he had planned, although the view of the Watchmen would, naturally, be missing.
Putting it from his mind, he concentrated on finding a ship that was preparing to set sail with the evening tide. Suddenly, he froze, then hurriedly ducked behind a nearby group of people. The large figure of Captain Simon Banks, unmistakable even at this distance, was on the pier - accompanied by a group of men whom Blair could only assume to be the Watch.
As he lurked and observed, he noticed the men taking up positions along the pier, almost as if to ensure that a wanted felon, or Guide, would not escape. He cursed fluently in Spanish. Obviously Captain Banks was willing to aid his friend in finding his chosen Guide, regardless of the chosen Guide's views on the matter.
Easing back, he did his best to keep out of sight as he left the pier. A straightforward escape was now out of the question.
~'~
James Norrington was surprised when Mr. Sandburg arrived back at the fort; he had assumed that the writer had asked all the questions he had needed to. "Mr. Sandburg, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He frowned as he looked the younger man up and down. Mr. Sandburg looked as though he'd run all the way from the governor's mansion and desperation was leaking from his very pores.
"You have to help me!"
One entreating hand was laid on his sleeve and James looked at it before looking back at the anxious face. "I am an officer of the King's Navy; naturally, I will do what I can to assist you."
"You know Captain Ellison...of the Watch...?"
"I haven't met him myself but I know that he's a good Watchman. He and Captain Banks were both in the military, you know."
"Yes, I do know. Well...he's a Sentinel."
"I see." James didn't really see why one Guide was telling another Guide that someone was a Sentinel, but he was prepared to listen.
"He...tried to bond with me." Mr. Sandburg's face flushed.
James was surprised. "He failed?!"
"Not quite. He...I...."
"You ran away."
"Well...yes."
James was sure that he knew what the difficulty was now. "I'm certain that Captain Ellison will understand how nervous you were, and that he'll be willing to give you another opportunity. Perhaps I could explain it to him for you? If you feel unable to explain it yourself, that is."
From the look on Mr. Sandburg's face, James was beginning to think that he didn't know what the difficulty was, after all.
"I don't want to bond with him," the Guide whispered, his face reddening even more.
"What?!" James was shocked, then hurriedly moderated his tone. He did not want to draw attention to this disgraceful state of affairs. "I mean...what?"
"I don't want to bond with him!"
"Captain Ellison is a fine man and, I am sure, a fine Sentinel. Why don't you want to bond with him?"
"I just don't!"
"Mr. Sandburg, it is the duty of every Guide to bond with their Sentinel. If Captain Ellison has chosen you, you should be honoured," James stated repressively.
"Well, I don't want to be honoured! Look," the hand was back on his arm and this time James frowned as he picked up far more emotion than he had the first time around, "I don't want to bond with anyone."
"It appears that you have little choice." He shook the hand from his arm. "I suggest that you return to Captain Ellison, admit to being a little...hysterical..."
"I'm not hysterical!"
"...and ask him to forgive you."
Indignation filled the blue eyes facing him. "Forgive me? Forgive me?! I'm not the one who was growling! I'm not the one who attempted to leap on a Guide and drag him into a bond! He has nothing to forgive me for!"
"I think you will find that he may take a different view of that!" Suddenly noticing that Lieutenant Gillette was standing at his elbow, James turned, his tone far less calm than he would have liked, "What is it?"
"Excuse me, Commodore, but Mullroy and Cotton apprehended a civilian attempting to board the Interceptor."
"Attempting to b-" James' jaw dropped. "What civilian?"
The lieutenant turned and indicated a group of three men standing not far away, the one in the centre apparently extremely reluctant to enter the fort. "That civilian, sir."
"Hmmm." James frowned. "Looks like a pirate to me." Turning back to the other Guide, he ordered, "Wait here." Matters of piracy took precedence over reluctant Guides. Approaching the three, James was conscious of a pride in his job. Ridding the world of pirates was an honourable profession that he was happy to undertake. Annoyingly, Mr. Sandburg was close behind him, but James put that to the back of his mind; he would deal with his fellow Guide later. "Well, well, so you were attempting to board a ship, Mr...."
The dark-haired man didn't answer, but his dark eyes narrowed as he returned James' stare and his nostrils flared. Tension seemed to drain from the lithe body as a flashy gold grin spread across the face. "Sentinel Sparrow, at your service, mate. Or should I say, Guide."
James stiffened, resolutely ignoring anything but the man's name. He held out his hand as if to shake hands with the other man. "How do you do, Mr. Sparrow?"
There was a delicate hesitation, then one hand firmly gripped his. "Sentinel. Or Captain, if you prefer."
The Guide ignored the tingles of sensation that warned him that this was a Sentinel, and instead forced up the man's sleeve revealing a branded 'P'. "I see you've already had a run in with the East India Trading Company."
"Some time ago, Guide. Nothin' that need worry you, savvy?"
James frowned. The damned...pirate was scenting him again and he could feel a pressure on his mental barriers that wasn't there before. "That's Commodore Norrington to you, Sparrow."
"Commodore, that's such a harsh Christian name. Didn't your parents like you?"
"His first name's James," Mr. Sandburg chipped in, altogether too cheerfully for James' taste.
"James! Good strong name is James. I think I'll call you..." his eyes wandered up and down briefly, "Jamie, though."
James thought that Lieutenant Gillette was going to have a stroke. "That's Commodore Norrington to you, pirate!"
"I'll call my Guide what I please, mate," the pirate snapped in return. "And Jamie is what pleases me."
Four people choked loudly as Sparrow and Mr. Sandburg positively smirked at each other.
"I am not your Guide!" James was determined to take back control of this absurd situation.
"Not yet, mate, but you will be!" That damnable pirate winked.
"I hardly think so, Mr. Sparrow."
"Captain, Captain Sparrow!"
Ignoring that, James forged on, "After all, you'll be meeting the hangman tomorrow morning."
Sparrow did not seem in the slightest bit worried about that pronouncement. "You won't be 'angin' me once we're bonded, Jamie!"
"I think you'll find it difficult to bond with anyone from a prison cell, Mr. Sparrow."
"You don't know what I can do from a prison cell, Jamie. Very versatile, I am."
James lost his temper. "Take him away and lock him up!"
"Don't worry, Jamie. I'll be back soon." The pirate continued to call reassurances as he was dragged away, leaving the two Guides alone.
"And as for you -"
Mr. Sandburg interrupted him with a wicked gleam in his eye, "Commodore, it is the duty of every Guide to bond with their Sentinel. If Captain Sparrow has chosen you, you should be honoured."
"Honoured?!" James couldn't remember when he was last so angry. "Honoured in bonding to a pirate?"
"Well, I know he's not a respectable member of the town but he is an officer...of sorts."
"He's a pirate!"
"And a Captain!"
"Mr. Sandburg," James drew himself up to his full height and glared down at the shorter man. "I am aware of your reluctance to bond with Captain Ellison but to compare my situation to yours is absurd!" He raised as hand as Mr. Sandburg attempted to speak. "I do not know what purpose you had in coming to see me, but if you believed I would aid you in your foolish attempt to escape your duty in bonding to an honourable man, you were mistaken!"
There was silence for a few seconds, then, "Yes...I can see that I was." His voice was softer, sorrowful rather than the teasing tone of a few seconds before. "I'm sorry to have troubled you, Commodore."
The sincerity deflated James' anger somewhat and he grasped the other Guide's arm as he made to move away. "Mr. Sandburg...Captain Ellison is a good man. I am sure he will take good care of you."
"Commodore, I don't want anyone to take care of me. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself." The blue eyes stared at the ground. "And if Port Royal weren't a port, I wouldn't be asking for your help now."
James believed him. Port Royal's main access was by boat. The rugged terrain behind the town made travelling in that direction difficult for a native and downright impossible for anyone not well acquainted with the area. He sighed and said, much against his better judgement, "I will go and see Captain Ellison - attempt to intercede with him on your behalf. That's all I can do!"
He got a beaming smile in return. "That's all I ask!"
"You'd better avoid the fort today as he'll know that I've seen you. Come back at sunset."
"Thank you, Commodore."
"Don't thank me yet!" As he left, James was conscious of a sense of irony. While bonding to a Watchman was not ideal, it was certainly far better than bonding to a pirate - especially one who would be hanged in the morning. He sighed and shook his head as he made his way to the port. He should have stuck to his first answer and told Mr. Sandburg to do his duty instead of answering the desperate appeal exuded by the other Guide and agreeing to talk to a determined Sentinel.
~'~
Captain James Ellison finally arrived at the pier. After catching a vaseful of flowers thrown at him by his prospective Guide, he'd spent a good fifteen minutes sneezing and a further five minutes apologising to the governor of Port Royal over the loss of his Ming vase. Fortunately for him, his friend and colleague, Captain Simon Banks - his superior in the Watch despite their equality in rank - had agreed to head straight for the pier and make sure that a certain Guide was not allowed to board any ship.
Jim was certain that Sandburg would have made his way directly to the pier in an attempt to escape but, as Simon had been on horseback and Sandburg had fled on foot, he was positive that his Guide had not had a chance to escape by boat before the Watch reached the pier. Therefore Sandburg was still in Port Royal. Somewhere.
He noticed Commodore Norrington's approach but paid no heed to him until the commodore enquired for him by name.
"Commodore Norr-" He broke off. A recently learned but bone-achingly familiar scent reached him. Norrington had been with his Guide! He grabbed Norrington's arm and held on firmly. "Where's Sandburg?"
"That is what I came to speak to you about, Captain. If we could talk in private?"
Refusing to let go of his only lead to his Guide, Jim towed the commodore along to a quiet corner of the port. "Where is he?" Inhaling, the Sentinel realised two things. Norrington was also a Guide, and this Guide was nervous.
There was a few seconds' pause as Norrington appeared to debate how to begin then, "Are you aware that Mr. Sandburg is...unwilling to bond with you?"
He tightened his grip on the arm he held. "That's none of your business, Guide. Where is he?"
The eyes met his, holding his gaze firmly. "At the moment? I have no idea."
"But you know where he will be at some point," Jim replied, certain it was true.
The gaze dropped.
"When and where?" When the Guide in front of him remained silent, Jim leaned in slightly and inhaled sharply. There was a faint tang to the Guide's scent that confirmed the uneasy feeling he'd had for the past couple of hours. "And where is your Sentinel?"
Norrington looked up, startled. "I'm not bonded!" He took a breath, then continued, "Captain Ellison, you are looking for a Guide. I am...."
He paused and Jim crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. Was he about to be propositioned by a Guide? With an effort, he kept his smile off his face. "You were saying?"
The man flushed, and Jim bit his lip. Whoever this other Sentinel was, he had this Guide panicked if the Guide was willing to approach another Sentinel in an effort to escape him.
"You are based in Port Royal, as am I. We are both used to a military life. A...bond between us would make sense."
A bond of convenience, there was an unusual idea. Regardless of how comical he found the situation, Jim kept his voice gentle. "It would indeed, however, I have already met my Guide and I can choose no other."
"I see." The head was held high with pride. "Thank you for your time, Captain Ellison. I am sorry to have disturbed you."
"Not so fast." Jim grabbed his arm once more and brought the Guide to a standstill. "There's still the matter of my Guide and his whereabouts."
The startled gaze met his. "I do not know where Mr. Sandburg is."
"But you know where he will be at some point. Is he with the other Sentinel?"
"No."
Jim's voice tightened as his anger and fear surged at the very thought, "Will this Sentinel attempt to hunt him?"
The Guide shook his head, the embarrassed flush deepening. "No!"
The Sentinel relaxed. Whoever this strange Sentinel was, he must have chosen Commodore Norrington to be his Guide.
He relaxed even more as Norrington added, "The Sentinel in question is in a prison cell and will be hanged in the morning."
That explained everything! A rigidly correct officer like Norrington would find it hard being bonded to a Sentinel with criminal tendencies. "I see. However, that still leaves us with one problem." He waited until Norrington's gaze met his. "You know where my Guide will be at some point."
"Captain -"
"Therefore, I see nothing for it but for us to stay together until I find him."
"I'm afraid such a thing is impossible, Captain Ellison," Norrington replied, admirably firmly. "I have my duties at the fort to consider."
Despite the fact that Commodore Norrington was only an inch shorter than himself, Jim invaded the Guide's personal space intimidatingly, forcing him to step back, his head and gaze dropping submissively. "Your duties at the fort will have to wait, Guide, until my Guide is found. Of course, the sooner that is, the sooner you may return to the fort alone." He waited for a few seconds until it became clear that Norrington would not give up Sandburg's whereabouts. "Very well. We are helping to search the town."
A muscle flexed in the Guide's jaw but he remained stubbornly silent.
"After you, Commodore."
~'~
This was getting ridiculous, Blair decided as he ducked, yet again, into a small alleyway. The Watch were not only guarding the pier, they were also searching the town, and he had a strong suspicion he knew who they were searching for: one Guide by the name of Blair Sandburg!
Glancing around, he made sure that there were no Watchmen in view as left the alleyway. If he could just find somewhere to hide out of sight until sundown, he'd be fine. Once it was dark, he could make his way back to the fort to see Commodore Norrington and, hopefully, persuade him to help him get on board a ship in order to escape from Port Royal.
If Lady Luck were smiling upon him, or upon Norrington, then Captain Ellison might, just might, be persuaded to bond with the Guide in front of him, instead of chasing a reluctant Guide around the town. That would solve all of their problems. Captain Ellison would have a Guide; Commodore Norrington would have a respectable Sentinel who was also an officer, or ex-military officer anyway, and he, Blair Sandburg, would be free to leave Port Royal after completing the story he was writing about it. Of course, Captain Sparrow would not be happy but, as he'd be dead in the morning, his happiness didn't really come into it. It was a pity. Blair had liked what he'd seen of the pirate and he suspected that Captain Sparrow would have been rather good for the uptight Naval officer he'd chosen as a Guide.
Shaking the regrets from him, he ducked down another alleyway. If he kept this up, he'd be well qualified to write about the alleyways of Port Royal instead of the Watchmen!
Blair stopped at the other end of the alleyway and looked around carefully. If he could make his way to the edge of town then he could go back to the governor's mansion and collect his things. Fortunately for him, he always travelled light. And it was possible that the search was being concentrated on the town - surely no one would expect him to return to the mansion?
His thoughts were interrupted suddenly at the sight of one Sentinel and Guide. Captain Ellison had a tight grip upon the arm of a poker-faced Commodore Norrington and that told Blair all he needed to know. They hadn't bonded. If they had then the Sentinel would not need to keep such a tight hold on his Guide. And the only reason that Blair could think of for the Sentinel to be escorting Norrington around the town, was that the Sentinel realised that the two Guides were planning on meeting up again. 'Damn and blast!'
He withdrew into his alleyway and chose a different route to the edge of the town. Keeping out of sight until nightfall was even more of a necessity now.