The British Pirate

-1- Shipwreck

POV: James Norrington 

"Sir, there has been a shipwreck just off the coast! We've been called in to investigate!"

Sighing, I looked up. I'd been lost in my thoughts and only heard 'investigate.' "Come again?"

The soldier repeated his words. "We've been asked to investigate a shipwreck just off the coast, sir."

I frowned. Since when do we do shipwreck investigations? "Ready the men," I ordered anyway. "We'll set off immediately."

The soldier gave a brisk nod and ran off. I let out a tense breath. I had only recently become commodore, so I was gauging my every move carefully, hesitant to make an order and find out I'd done the wrong thing. Maybe this was the governor seeing if I'd question his orders.

I lead my unit to the wreck, which was indeed a bit to close to Port Royal for my liking. Especially once I saw the tattered remains of a pirate flag fluttered limply in the breeze.

"Has the ship been searched?" I demanded, frowning at it.

"No, sir," a soldier replied.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. "Search it!" I ordered. The men scurried to follow my orders, and I followed them onto the wreck, a bit more hesitant.

The wreck had clearly happened within the past hour or two. The sand was still freshly moved, and the ship still seemed solid—in fact, there didn't seem to be a visible reason why the ship had crashed. I briefly wondered if the crewman on watch had fallen asleep during his watch, but decided to investigate the cause after we'd searched the ship.

My men slowly filtered throughout the ship. Lieutenant Bentsson stood at my side.

"Shall we check that room there, sir, presumably the captain's quarters, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

I nodded and strode forward. I pushed open the door to what was easily the captain's quarters. They were large and spacious and could have once been beautiful. But now they were trashed and torn up. Items and furniture were tossed around the room, the bed was unmade and the desk was overturned. Papers were scattered throughout the room. The only things that didn't move were things that were nailed down.

And a map pinned to the wall.

I stepped forward to look at the map, peering closely at it. I reached out to touch the faded and wrinkled paper when a door squeaked open.

The sound of the door wouldn't be anything special if it weren't for the sound that followed after it.

A baby's cry.