Chapter 1 – Reflection on the Pier

Jack Sparrow had decided that he did not care much for curses. Mostly tall stories told to frighten children or to keep other pirates away from one's treasure, nonetheless there were real curses, and some were nasty. Poxes or some sort of terrible affliction – they were popular. Fortunately lots of pirates suffered from some affliction or other anyway so there were always folk around to use as a back up to the story to give it substance. Jack had never met another man suffering from a disease caught from finding a cursed treasure or removing it. He had met men with various limbs missing, lost in battle, or an eye – but never a disease.

But this curse – now that was interesting. Jack had no proof of its existence, true enough. But the source was reliable and anyway if there was a God, it was about time he helped out old Jack Sparrow, made up for the whole marooning episode which left him on an island for three days, until the rum runners turned up and gave him passage off the blasted place.

Jack sighed, and rocked his empty rum bottle in his hand, not really registering that it was exactly that. The fact that the crew was cursed, that was one thing. But the curse apparently extended to the ship – now that was terribly unfortunate. And now The Black Pearl was the scourge of the seas, feared by all. Not exactly the reputation Jack had worked hard to carve out for himself. It was still bloody fast though.

"Here you are Jackie." Jack jumped as his empty bottle of rum was removed from his hand and a full bottle was put in its place.

"Thanks …. Dad."

There wasn't much between the two pirate Captains. Neither had a ship to call their own. The Black Pearl had been taken in the mutiny of course; the only thing that made that bearable for Jack was the curse that the crew now carried. Teague had lost his ship in a wager over a woman who lived on Tortuga – a woman who wouldn't entertain Teague as it turned out, despite his talent for weaving stories and charming young women. He didn't understand why she couldn't apparently stand him. Teague had suffered more slaps to the face at the hands of that bloody woman than he had fallen over from the effects of a night on the rum. But that was now history and Teague had a new task to think about.

Father and son looked remarkably similar, although Teague was noticeably older. Jack's bandanna was a deeper red than that of his father, but both men wore their black hair long and in dreadlocks. Teague's hair was much longer, and he had many more trinkets and beads tied into it than his son did. He also had a large silver key tied to a particularly long dreadlock, which he refused to discuss with anyone or divulge what it unlocked. Jack swore that Teague copied the look from him, but Teague stated it was more the other way around.

Jack stared out to sea, peaceful and calm it was tonight – and wondered which port Barbossa and his crew of miscreants were pillaging. They were probably many miles away – wreaking havoc and chaos, slaying anyone who got in their way. God knows that was all they could do now. Searching the world over for every piece of the gold they had taken from the Isla De Muerta. Stealing it back to return it, along with the blood of every man who had taken but a single piece. Had they not had The Pearl, it really would have been quite funny.

"So…." Teague broke Jack's thoughts, "What are your intentions Jackie? I'd forget about the Pearl if I were you….. there's not much call for a cursed ship nowadays."

Jack let out a long sigh. "The Immortal Captain Sparrow…. I like that."

"It's not worth it boy. Never to touch, never to taste, never to….. well anyway it takes all the fun out of good to honest piratin' so it does."

Jack knew his father was right of course. But he had yet to face up to the reality of his beloved ship being gone, and gone for good too. His friends gone, or the crew he thought were friends. Bootstrap – now that was a bitter pill to swallow. Good man, bloody good pirate. And now he was one of them no doubt - cursed for all eternity, unless they could really lift the blasted thing. He had tried to stick up for Jack during the mutiny though, which was more than could be said for any of the other scurvy bilge rats.

"Well enough of my woes, now what about this…." Jack absently waved a dirty arm towards his father, "This task of yours?"

Teague smiled a crooked, toothy smile and straightened his hat a little. Stolen from a man with a clearly much bigger head that Teague, the hat had a mind of its own and a pesky habit of slipping down over his eye.

"I'm thinking it over Jackie. Tis a big responsibility. I'm not sure I'm up to it." Teague took a long swig of his rum. "And Shipwreck Cove is not really my idea of home son."

"You've never had a home dad."

"That's exactly the point lad. Can I really sit and guard that bloody book for all time, it's not really me is it?"

Jack frowned and continued to stare out to sea. "Well I don't know. The Codex chooses the keeper so they say, not the other way around. If you've been chosen…" he shrugged, "Well you can't really refuse. And you'll have the occasion Brethren Court to keep you company."

Teague laughed. "Ha! That's not going to happen in your lifetime boy. The brethren all together in one room is not a good idea."

"How's mum?" Jack shuddered as he asked and in all honesty, he didn't really care for the answer to that particular question, having never got along with the woman in his life. But he felt he had to ask.

Teague fished about in his coat and frowned as he struggled to locate something – the pockets of this particular garment, won in a bet, as most of Teague's possessions were, were numerous and randomly placed. This particular coat also boasted pockets inside which was rare in Teague's book. He let out a triumphant cry as he found what he was looking for – and produced a shrunken head.

Jack recoiled. "She looks, erm, well." He murmured.

Teague stuffed the head back in his pocket and nodded, "Aye she's grand."

He suddenly leaned forward, so close Jack thought their noses would touch. "Have you ever seen the codex boy?"

Jack shook his head and leaned back a little, mostly to regain focus on his father, who had gone hazy since invading his space.

"No. I once knew a man who claimed he had seen it. Bloody big heavy thing he said it was, but it did answer the very thing he needed to know and …."

"No!!" Teague slammed a fist down on the pier so hard he wobbled and Jack thought he may fall over the side. He didn't. "No son. That's the thing. Not many have seen it. Oh, they speak of it. The Codex. Legendary. I used to know a man who said that every wager he ever won or lost was based on something in the codex. It wasn't true though. The keeper doesn't use the codex to settle scores. No…" Teague drifted off, his thoughts weighing heavy on him. "The Codex is the rules boy. Morgan and Bartholomew were good pirates that they were, but they were clever too. They knew we needed the Codex, something to live by. The code – its there for a reason and to become keeper of the code…. You have to believe in those rules."

"And do you?"

"I don't know." Teague sighed, "I really don't know."