Author's note: THANK YOU DragonHunter200!! I wasn't quite sure how chapter 6 was going to go over I was very glad to see someone liked it. As to Jack and the Wind stay tuned (but don't expect an answer for a few more chapters). Best of luck with the Spanish final!! School first then fanfic. My God!! Did I just say that!? Ack! I've joined THEM – the, the, grown-ups. Sigh – I suppose it was inevitable…
Sirhcvuli – I am sorry you find the length of the chapters to be an issue. For me chapter length is driven by the story. Before ever setting pen to paper I outline the whole beast and then break it into chunks based on natural breaks in the story. Each chapter needs to hit a series of plot points and reach the predetermined end point. If that takes 3 pages it will be a 3 page chapter. (And I think there might even be one of those late in the story.) I do try to keep things under 15000 words / 20 printed pages because I know internet connections and computer time can get prohibitive on long chapters. Actually chapters 2, 3, and especially 5 (which lost over 4 full single spaced pages) were pruned from their original drafts because they were all well above that. (I'm just crossing my fingers I didn't cut anything that I shouldn't have.) I do also, more rarely, cut chapters in places I never originally intended too. In my preliminary outline back in January Chapters 5-9 were originally slotted for a single chapter titled Opportune Moment. When I did my second pass at the outline in February after some research I decided that it needed much more space hence Opportune Moment became Mr. Blake?, Villain and Hero, The Bonny Swan, The Mystery of Mr. Cotton, and Opportune Moment. In summary, I think we're stuck with long chapters but I am going back over my outline and considering some more breaks in the longer ones.
The Bonny Swan song is a modification of Loreena McKennits song from the The Mask and the Mirror
Blood of Avalon
Chapter 7: The Bonny Swan
There was no gap between sleeping and waking. I was simply aware of Elizabeth holding me and a different hand wrapped around my wrist.
"You stopped breathing" she whispered as she rocked me gently. "I though you said he'd be fine if you left" she snapped at Mallory as he released my wrist and sat back slowly. He didn't even spare her a glance as he popped his right shoulder back into place. There were an assortment of snaps and cracks as he used his left arm to straighten the breaks in the right.
When he was done he glanced up "I'll grant I might have deserved that but you nearly killed young Turner with that stunt."
The hair on my arms stood up.
"Pearl gives you her profound apologies and begs your forgiveness, she meant you no harm." Mallory said quietly.
"Tell her" I felt rather silly addressing a boat "she's forgiven."
"There is no need for me to relay the message. Pearl hears everything that happens within the area encompassed by her rigging." He set his head on his knee.
"What was that?"
"I said earlier I can't come aboard the Pearl without permission" he swallowed "The reverse also holds true. Pearl is refusing to let me leave." He was decidedly glassy eyed and blinking too rapidly when he looked in Jack's direction "If you would be so kind as to order her to do so I would be greatly obliged."
"With pleasure" Jack began only wince.
Mallory looked very much like he wanted to cover his ears but settled for muttering "If I do by some mischance live to be a thousand I will, never, ever understand women." He blinked at Elizabeth "Perhaps, milady, you would have mercy upon a much befuddled prince and explain how in the course of a few brief hours I can go from" he waved at the diverse items still spread across the deck "a persona non grata to her having, having"
God, but he was fish-eye dazed.
"Hysterics is the word yer looking for" Jack supplied helpfully.
"Thank you" Mallory said "hysterics over the thought of me leaving."
My father and I shared a glance – we had an ally. Pearl might not be happy with the fact that Mallory had left her to Barbossa but she obviously didn't want him dead either and was willing to act.
"Please, please stop crying" Mallory mumbled "please. All right, I'll stay for a little while if Sparrow agrees, just stop crying. Please stop crying." As he slumped back against the rail a sheet of light rose like a wall. "I promised to stay." He sounded affronted and the light vanished. That edgy nastiness from earlier was gone, utterly. I remembered that flash of triumph when Jack had ordered him off the Pearl. I glanced up at Jack and could see the same realization in his eyes – picking fights, Mallory had been picking fights. Why had he wanted to be ordered off the Pearl?
Mallory sighed "Just like a woman."
Elizabeth arched a brow "O really?"
"From scurvy knave to servant in thirty seconds or less" he replied to Elizabeth and then glanced to Pearl. "Lass, that would take the better part of a fortnight" he protested weakly.
"We just careened you" Jack objected in nearly the same breath. "I do take good care of you" there was a jealous glint in Jack's eyes when he glanced at Mallory who'd curled up against the rail with his head back on his knee. It was replaced by worry "Are you certain yer alright mate?"
Mallory straightened "I'm fine" but there was a weariness in that voice that belied his words.
"Are ye utterly positive about that?"
Mallory rose gracefully to his feet "In all honesty, Sparrow, I'm in better shape in both body and enaid than the day we met." That same pride from earlier was flashing in his defiant green eyes. I was also beginning to think that if you flayed him alive he'd look you in the eye and say the same. On the other hand it might be true. He couldn't have been out of the oubliette for more than a few months before he met Jack.
"It's just not one of my better nights" he folded himself back onto the deck. At least the 'I was just smacked in the face with an oar look' had faded "There is no need for concern."
Jack just nodded before trying, unsuccessfully, to pass him the rum again.
"Why are you always trying to get me drunk?" he canted his head and looked at Jack expectantly.
"It loosens everyone else's lips, figured maybe just once ye'd start bloody talking."
"As I recall I spoke a great deal."
"Aye ye did, about shipbuilding, and sailing, and swordplay, and history, and languages, and strategy, and science, and a host o other things and except for that little jaunt te Isla de Meurta not three bloody words about yerself. I've learned more about the man, the elf, that raised me today than I learned in thirteen years" the tone was still smooth Jack Sparrow but there was a flash of anger and pain in his dark eyes.
"That's actually an insult you know" Mallory returned dully.
Jack frowned "What?"
"Elf, it's like calling a Frenchman a Frog" he had gone from aggressively edgy to nearly lethargic. How hard had Pearl hit him?
"Yer pardon" Jack shot back with just a touch of sarcasm "The Ellyllon prince that raised me."
"And now you know I'm a remorseless, murdering, cheating, lying, inhuman, heir to a kingdom."
Not remorseless, I had no idea how to judge the rest but he was anything but remorseless.
Jack set the rum in front of Mallory with a solid thump. "Ye said this was a night for remembrance? Well, how can ye do that properly without lifting a glass te the dearly departed? Savvy?"
Mallory gave the bottle of rum a disgusted look "I wouldn't insult them with that rot-gut you imbibe with such gusto."
"Most excellent well" Jack replied with undaunted aplomb "I'll get te keep me rum and I'll get te unload some o that" he paused and cleared his throat "Wonderful produce of Bacchus's divine nature, a vintage truly fit for a royal guest." He finished with a sweeping Malloryesque bow. It was a perfect imitation but with just a touch of Jack Sparrow and while undoubtedly amusing it got far too hearty a response. It did crack the tense atmosphere though. Mallory's own reply was spot on Jack Sparrow right down to the trademark sway and further diffused the situation. I breathed a sigh of relief that he'd perked back up a bit.
"It is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep of that proliferous bouquet of a wake aboard the Black Pearl."
Jack's eyes lit with delight and then faded with shadow "It would have been William's turn te owe me a bottle of rum."
"Then we will drink one to Captain Kidd."
"You knew Captain Kidd" Elizabeth's eyes were big as saucers. I rolled my own.
"A good man" was Mallory's quiet response.
"And a good pirate?" she asked archly.
"Not a pirate, Lizzy" Jack retorted angrily "Not William, not ever. They hung him for Culliford's crimes and then let that bastard walk."
"He didn't walk far" there was no question that Culliford was dead and who was responsible. And Mallory was anything but remorseful in this instance.
Jack rolled the bottle of rum in his hands "I should have paid me respects te Sarah but" he shrugged.
"That reminds me" Mallory fished around in a pocket or purse we clearly couldn't see and tossed something to Jack who glanced down and palmed it. I frowned at the little pile of sand the action had left on the black planks. "I gave your regrets to Sarah when I delivered the last of William's hidden gold. She sends her fond regards and if you can ever bring yourself to briefly loose the trinkets" Jack glared at the very notion "and impersonate an honest merchant she would be delighted to be your hostess."
"I heard she was remarried with more little ones."
"She is" Mallory allowed. Jack sighed and raised the bottle "Te Captain William Kidd the finest innocent man te ever swing for piracy." He took a generous swallow and passed it to Mallory who looked at it like he'd just been handed poison but took a hefty gulp anyway and passed it back.
"Dragon's breath, Sparrow, how do you drink that foul brew?"
Jack gave the bottle pat "Don't fret, luv. I wouldn't dream o sharing anymore o ye with the likes o him." He flicked his attention back to Mallory "Ye stay put and I'll find something below that that princely palate o yers can stomach."
My father rose "I'll give ye a hand."
"No, ye stay with yer son" there was a flash of disappointment in Jack's dark eyes. I realized suddenly that neither Jack nor Elizabeth had stumbled onto the truth. I was torn. On one hand it felt very good (for perhaps the first time) to be one step ahead of them. On the other I felt a certain sympathy for Jack. I had wondered even with my mother what my father was like and where I came from. Jack had had no one. Maybe that was why he'd been so eager to help me look for my own father. What must it be like to know nothing all your life only to be told that the answer had been looking you in the face for thirteen years without ever saying a word? Small wonder it had been easy for Mallory to pick a fight with Jack. For all his apparent calm Jack's thoughts and emotions had to be in an absolute roil. Particularly with the added insult that Mallory had gone out of his way to take Anna-Maria home, that he had made such a point of the importance of family. The sight of my father and I finally reunited couldn't possibly help either. What a mess. I also know Captain Jack Sparrow well enough to know that he hadn't given up and as I watched him stagger away I wondered what his plan was. I hoped for his sake that he wasn't too disappointed when he discovered that Mallory wasn't, in point of fact, his father.
My father's voice pulled me out of my thoughts "I never actually thanked you for what you did for my son."
"I'm just pleased that you finally chose to talk to Cennan" you could see in both their eyes that there was a message for my father alone in those words.
He flushed nearly purple "Is that yer way o saying 'I told ye so'?"
Mallory shrugged still far too quiet for my own liking, "It was my pleasure both to train Cennan and to heal him. You have been blessed with a fine son, Bill."
Was there a trace of longing in that voice? It was my turn to flush and squirm under that praise "What does Cennan mean?"
For just an instant the ghost of the merry young 'journeyman blacksmith' that had trained me hovered about him "It's El'lan for whelp."
"You can't be serious."
"Would I lie to you?" This was far closer to the man I'd known, slightly mocking and nearly gentle, though without the laughter in his eyes that I remembered so well. I was surprised that he'd yielded so easily. He'd never struck me as the type that gave up. Or perhaps he was just waiting for the 'opportune moment' and gulling both us and the Pearl. He canted his head at me expectantly but Anna-Maria saved me from having to answer.
"Are you certain that there's nothing you can do for Mama?"
"When I did the first surgery in 1705 I truly thought I'd gotten it all but when I visited for Christmas in 1708 it was back and spreading rapidly. I preformed a second surgery then but I know from long experience that it is a largely futile gesture. It's only a matter of time." He was staring rather intently at his booted toes.
"How much time?" Anna-Maria demanded.
Mallory shrugged without looking up "Not long, a month at the absolute most, probably far less." He met Anna-Maria's eyes "To be brutally honest I was surprised when the Wind told me she was still alive." He held her eyes "She's a fighter and she's wants to say goodbye. Please forgive her if she's testy, by this time she'll be in quite a bit of pain." Anna-Maria gathered herself to say something but Mallory cut her off, "If you don't mind could we possibly skip the part were you threaten me with physical violence? Things that don't exist in your darkest nightmares have already been tried and failed. Nothing short of Gorchymyn has ever succeeded in forcing me to act. All you will accomplish is ending up with a broken arm. Truth told I'd rather not if it's all the same to you." His eyes were all but boring holes in her "Let me repeat this very slowly I. CAN'T. SAVE. HER. Not won't, can't. It isn't an injury or a foreign invader. Her own body has turned on her and is slowly strangling her. The essence of what I do is to encourage the body to do what it would do naturally just at a much faster pace. When I turn that ability on people with tumors or leukemia the disease just explodes." He swallowed "The first time I thought it was a fluke. After all I was never trained. I just thought I'd done something wrong and killed the woman I was trying to save." He was playing with an ear tip again "They speak of gorffwyll, the release of enaid when you kill as a warrior but it's a pale, immaterial shadow compared to what happens when you kill when you're healing." At some point earlier his eyes had gone cat-slitted, now the pupils spread so wide the green became the thinnest of halos in a sea of darkness. "First there's the brilliant flash when you flare, burning for just an instant brighter than any fire or star of the heavens. It's indescribably beautiful in its own dreadful way and then the darkness rushes in behind it clawing and snatching." He fell silent with those strange too dark eyes staring again. Jack set a case of bottles beside him with a thump. He didn't stir.
"Here, ye look like ye could use this" still no answer "Mallory!" Jack snapped. In a single blink his eyes were back to normal. He glanced at the full case at his side and back to Jack with brows raised.
"I figured if yer half as old as ye say it'd take a bit. Now, where do we start?"
"No glasses?"
"I happen te know yer highness can manage without" Jack challenged back.
Elizabeth sighed "Fine crystal and elegance."
"Dogs eating off the gold plate on the bloody table" Mallory rebutted in the same moment my father mumbled "Courtiers pissing in the corners." They shared a wry, knowing look before Mallory wrapped his fingers around the first bottle and pulled it out with a long-suffering sigh. He turned to Gibbs "To Captain Medwyn Grey and the crew of the Dominant." He took a gulp and gave the bottle a confused glance "What is this?"
"Wine" Jack supplied helpfully.
"Made by an obviously drunk vintner" Mallory sniffed at the bottle while the Governor looked on with intense interest. "I think the intent was a Merlot but" he took a sip and rolled it on his tongue. Jack looked a touch nervous and the Governor's fingers were all but twitching. My father-in-law considered himself quite the connoisseur and the thought of an unknown vintage was enough to bring him back into the conversation.
"If I may?" he piped caught somewhere between curiosity and terror but Mallory just passed him the bottle and went back to scrutinizing his boots. I'd patiently watched the Governor tasting wine on any number of occasions but never like this. His clothes were rumpled, his wig slightly askew, he was on a pirate ship in the middle of the Caribbean and he was still trying to sample wine as if he was back in his mansion. The Noman I'd known would have been at the very least highly amused. Mallory didn't even raise his head. Since the Governor didn't have a glass to pour it into he was trying in vain to gage the color through the dark bottle finally he muttered "Are you certain you haven't a glass? Or a bottle of a lighter color?"
"Nope" Jack flung his hands out "Not a one. Anna-Maria has a terrible temper you know. Smashed them all, glass everywhere."
The lady in question was looking at Jack like he'd lost his mind. Jack glanced at Mallory who was still apparently fascinated with his footwear and made a shushing motion. The Governor watched the by play, finally gave up on a proper tasting, and just took a sip. His brows shot up immediately and he winked conspiratorially at Jack. They both started as Mallory's head shot up but he ignored them while listening intently. Noman never would have missed any of this no matter how distracted he appeared to be.
"Did you hear something?" Mallory asked Jack who shook his head. "I suppose it was just Wind" but he sounded unsure.
The Governor returned the bottle "It's a truly unique vintage from quite renowned family."
"I bow to your greater expertise" Mallory replied distractedly still listening for whatever had caught his interest.
Elizabeth started to grab a bottle from one of the other casks several crewmen had brought up and were happily sharing, (I wondered uneasily if I was going to be called upon to rescue Elizabeth's virtue at some point tonight from a drunken crewman.) but Mallory stopped her.
"That isn't good for the wee lass."
Her hand flew to her stomach in consternation "Can I still propose a toast?"
"By all means, milady, I wait with baited breath for your pleasure." It was tough to appear gallant folded up like a pretzel on the Pearl's deck with a bottle of whatever in hand but Mallory managed.
"To Queen Elizabeth" Elizabeth had always been very proud of the Queen with whom she shared a name.
"To Elizabeth Regina Glorianna. May your God save you Bess." Mallory took at least six long swallows, eyes closed. Jack was all but beaming. I wondered just what the Merlot was spiked with, absinth, maybe? We knew for a fact that Ellyllon could get drunk on it and it would explain Jack's insistence on dark bottles to hide the discoloration. Did we really want a drunken Mallory? I hoped Jack had thought about just what Mallory was capable of – what if he was a violent drunk?
"What was it like, standing between England and the Armada?" she asked eagerly. I gave Mallory a beseeching look.
He caught my eye and just sighed, "Anticlimactic."
"What?" Elizabeth looked both angry and confused at the reply.
"My dear acolyte of Sekmet, while battles are what men remember, wars are more often won long before the first shot is fired. I holed the Armada under the water line in 1685 at Isla de Meurta when I stole the Cortez treasure." He raised the bottle again "To the men of the Cortez treasure fleet who died for nothing." He took another swig.
"I thought you said that the taking of the Cortez fleet was important to the defeat of the Armada."
"I did. It was critical. If I had failed to secure that bullion history would have been very different and it is quite likely the Armada would have landed if not prevailed."
"Then how can you say they died for nothing?" Elizabeth snapped.
"Does it matter? Did any of it ever really matter?" he asked quietly "If I hadn't been sent to live among you Bess would have died in 1554 but someone else would have ruled England. If I hadn't gotten involved in the Netherlands they would still be in the hands of Spain and the Inquisition would have expunged every trace of Protestantism but I rather doubt the loss of life would have been as great as it was in the revolt I precipitated. If I hadn't intervened in France the House of Valois would still be on the throne and there never would have been an Edict of Nantes but Louis revoked it and the Huegnots are dying again anyway. I broke the power of the Spanish Hapsburgs but would it have been so horrid if they had ended up ruling Europe? Venice is still a republic but for how much longer? It's all just dust and ash on the Wind, none of it matters. None of it matters any more than what Myrddin and Artorius died for a thousand years ago. History goes on, milady, we're just the transitory details."
"It did matter" she insisted "they died so England could go on."
"England would have gone on regardless of Spanish domination. You would worship in a different church but you'd say your prayers to the same God. You might speak a different language, or you might not. Just dust and ash."
She folded herself up across from him next to Jack "Did you think it mattered then?"
"Yes" he canted his head at her "Ask me on a different night and you're likely to get a different answer. But tonight is dedicated to the dead, tonight I count the cost of it all, and it's damnably high."
He froze for a moment and then looked at Jack "Are you certain you didn't hear something?"
Jack shook his head.
"Odd" he muttered and then addressed Elizabeth. "It's an easy thing, milady, to sit in a council chamber and plan a coup, or an assassination, or a war. It's quite another to stand on a blood soaked field and tally the butcher's bill particularly when the blood you've slipped calls to you. The truth is the Armada was doomed before it ever set sail. The bullion from the 1585 raid was used to finance the construction of a fleet built by Hawkins and roughly based on my designs. That was the first step toward defeating the Armada, then in 1587 I raided Cadiz and burned the barrel staves, in that moment I destroyed the Armada."
"Barrel staves?" she was incredulous "You defeated the Spanish Armada by burning barrel staves?"
"A fleet can't sail without provisions, provisions can't be stowed without barrels, provisions stored in green barrels can be deadly. I knew that ninny Philip would never understand and delay the fleet by another year because the barrels weren't ready. The men were already starting to die before they ever reached England even if they had managed to defeat us in the Channel, unlikely, with the fleet Hawkins and I had built, there wouldn't have been enough well sailors to augment Sandro's army. Any fool could have kept them off the coast with those ships. The fight in the Channel was superfluous, nothing but a show piece for the masses. The plan, my bloody plan, was to keep them from joining Sandro's army and then to keep them from making landfall until they all died. It was brilliant in a horrid way. I made sure we had more and better guns. If all went according to plan England wouldn't lose a single ship." He went back to playing with an ear.
"But some of them made it back."
"I know. As I said it's one thing to sit in the Queen's Privy Chamber and plan. It's another to actually stalk a fleet full of dying men and pick off the stragglers as they try desperately to make land fall. To listen to them as they weep in their desperation for their God to save them and their mothers to comfort them and know that there's no one to save them." He flushed and ducked his head looking almost ashamed "When we rounded Ireland I couldn't listen to it any more. I anchored the Revenge with Granuaile in Clew Bay and took what was left home. Not that that stopped the dying, rotten provisions are rotten provisions and there wasn't much I could do about that until we got back to Spain." He was staring at the decking again "Bess was furious with me but she was never the one doing the killing. It's easy to judge when you're not the one who has to listen to the screams. I never sailed for Bess again after that." He glanced back up at Elizabeth "Do yourself a favor, lass, stop asking. None of it's pretty, none of it's glorious, and all of it was pointless."
Jack clinked his rum against Mallory's darker bottle "To the dead of the Spanish Armada, then."
Mallory nodded and drained his own bottle in a single long pull and uncorked a second without prompting "To the other casualty of the Cortez Fleet. To James Norrington, the best First Lieutenant I ever had and to his father the White Rose." He drank deep "I'd rather spend another month in the hands of the Spanish Inquisition than face another friend over the body of his son. I'm sorry Henry, so damn sorry about that. I knew better. I should have seen what was coming."
"James Norrington?" Elizabeth echoed in surprise.
"Well, they aren't really Norringtons but I'm the only one left who remembers who they were. Just like I'm the only one who remembers why the second son is always named James and sent to the Navy. For Zander it's tradition, for me it's tragedy. Bloody 'Norringtons' - all stiff dignity and then they do something stupid, like blowing their brains out in the Ward Room in a fit of guilt." He glanced at my father "Or trying to break unjustly accused stable hands out of prison in the dead of night, amateur idiot." He frowned and glanced around the deck intently.
"Or get themselves shot trying to save you" Elizabeth returned sharply. I felt my own latent jealousy against the Commador flare. He could have given her so much more than I particularly since he'd inherited his brother's estate two years ago. I suddenly realized that the brother Commador Norrington had lost just before our wedding was the same Sir Rhys Norrington that had saved my father all those years ago. What a tangled web we were! I also was beginning to wonder if anyone was really what they appeared to be. I was a Blake, Noman was an Ellyllon, now James Norrington wasn't really a Norrington either.
"I did not need saving, milady" more cool, haughty pride "with the exception of Zander's noble gesture the situation was well in hand."
"He didn't know that. He risked his life and his career for you." She snapped back "He's a fine man, a good man, he risked a great deal giving Jack that head start."
Mallory raised a brow at her fierce tone "I never claimed he wasn't though I must confess" his eyes hardened ominously "I am less than best pleased with his treatment of Captain Sparrow and if we meet again." His head snapped to the left and he half rose before settling back on the deck uneasily. I was beginning to become nervous myself – was he legitimately hearing something the rest of us couldn't – or was the absinthe causing hallucinations? He brushed against the walking stick/bow and sent it rolling. My father picked it up and tried, unsuccessfully, to put it together.
"It's like this" and with a quick flip of the wrist the bow was ready to be strung.
"That is a very good trick" Jack commented (and I had to agree) "Why didn't ye ever show it to me?"
"Because when I suggested that you might want to learn a bit of archery you told me 'I'm going te be a bloody pirate captain on the bleeding sea not a bloody Indian chief"." The back half of the statement was another perfect imitation of Jack who rolled his eyes.
"Somehow I don't think ye acquired that from wild Indians" was Jack's reply.
He returned the bow to a walking stick and traced the design with a finger "No, it was a gift from the best pirate captain I ever knew."
"The best?" Jack looked a touch disappointed "Have I ever heard of him?"
"You might have heard of her or you might not" Mallory replied staring at the pattern. Elizabeth and Anna-Maria's eyes both lit at that her. For that matter so did Jack's and I had the sinking feeling that he was hoping that he was going to hear about his own mother. Gibbs shuddered in absolute horror.
"Who was she?" Anna-Maria asked.
Oh, I am Granuaile Ui Mhaille!
Beware me in Clew Bay.
From the wild coast of Mayo
I have come good Queen Bess
Under truce as a guest
To ask by what right
You force my brethren to roam
Far from their father's father's home?
Oh, I am Granuaile Ui Mhaille!
And I'll sail my caravels
To the very gates of Hell!
He let the song trail off as he went back to tracing the pattern but it was with a fond, nostalgic half-smile. It was by far and away the happiest he'd looked since sunset.
"Clew Bay? Mayo, Ireland? You mean Grace O'Malley, the Irish She King." Oh, but Jack was pleased with that "The piratess that stirred up rebellion for years?"
"Granuaile Ui Mhaille!" Mallory retorted fiercely "Ediarfol Alarches." He graced her with a sardonic smile "She wasn't English – she isn't Grace O' Malley she is Granuaile Ui Mhaille. You aren't Ellyllon you're Elizabeth nee Swann not Ediarfol Alarches."
And I was glad of that – I didn't even want to attempt to pronounce that on a regular basis. No wonder Jack had refused to learn El'lan.
"Was she really bald?"
That actually got a flash of a real grin "Only for a little while. Though she was bald as a queue ball the day I met her. Her mother told her girls couldn't go to sea because their long hair blew into the sailors' face so she shaved her head and snuck aboard her father's ship. They didn't catch her until she got wounded on their second engagement." His eyes were glowing "She had salt water in her veins, a will like steel wire, and nerves of ice." Odds were she wasn't Jack's mother but there was more than just respect in those green eyes. He'd been infatuated with her at the very least. He raised his bottle "To a woman who lived hard, navigated her own course, and died well. Wind to your sails Gran, wind to your sails."
Elizabeth nodded to what I realized wasn't a decorative pattern but an odd flowing script up the bow staves. "Is that a spell?"
"No, one side is an old Irish blessing, the other is a rather pointed reminder to stick to what I'm good at." Again that almost smile, sad and nostalgic but I got the distinct impression that in Mallory's consideration Granuaile had had a good life and a good death. "Being the very young fool that I was I thought since I could shoot a bow well I could shoot a gun equally well in spite of the fact I'd never fired one before. All I can say is at least I didn't kill anyone on my side. I never was very good with distance weapons."
My father rubbed his neck "I seem te recall at least one very good shot."
"You have no idea how many months of practice I had to put in with both bow and pistol to reach any level of proficiency with either. And I am still a far better archer."
"And I suppose ye learned it from a pack of wild Indians that made ye their chief?" Gibbs suggested.
Mallory looked at him oddly "No, I learned at Hatfield. Roger Aschem who was in charge of Bess and Ned's education was also an avid archer. Of course the only reason I bothered was because Bess took to the bow almost as naturally as Bill did to the gun and I'd be damned before I let Bess get the upper hand on me at anything." He surged to his feet so rapidly that I couldn't even follow the movement with my eyes. "That isn't my imagination and it isn't the Wind." He muttered a curse. "Lost it again, it comes and fades so quickly."
"What does?" Jack asked as we watched Mallory quarter the deck like a hound trying to pick up a scent.
"At first I thought it was just something on the Wind, but it isn't. Something aboard this ship weeps. But it's muffled and it fades in and out." His own voice trailed off as his gaze locked on a knot of crewman on the far end of the deck. Jack rose (swaying as always) and joined him.
"Sambo, Hobb, what are ye scabberous dogs about?"
"Divvyin' up Peter's loot since he doesn't need it no more."
"What's under that great coat?" Mallory demanded.
All of the men shifted uneasily and several made the sign against evil "It's a white stone box."
Mallory shivered himself "How much for the box?"
"Take it" the little man insisted "None of us want that thing."
One of the crewmen whose name I'd never learned back during the Isla de Meurta adventure shoved the think toward us. Mallory just stood frozen as a two by two by two foot alabaster box was revealed. Then he moved, nearly blurring as he descended with the speed of a diving falcon onto it.
"Mifywclywedchwi.Mifygalludyfolod.Mifyboddcaffealchwioddi.Gwir."
I wondered if that rapid slur of words was a spell or just an attempt to reassure whatever or whoever was in the box. My God, someone was in that thing! So small. I felt another wave of the pity that Mallory clearly wouldn't tolerate. Seventy-seven years. His first attempt was met with a crackle of lightening that left his fingers twitching but he paid it as much attention as duck pays to water on its back and tried again. And was repulsed. The counter to his third attempt was violent enough to knock him off his feet. He shook himself and sat back on his heels, cursing under his breath as he glared murderously at the alabaster. He put a hand on top of the box
"Gafael am. Mify clywed chwi. Gafael am."
He laid his ear to its smooth surface.
"I don't think she can hear me or else she isn't sane enough anymore to understand."
"She?" Jack asked staring at the box with the same horror all of us felt. "It's an Ellyllon in there then?"
"No. It can't be. We have to breathe and this is airtight. There are some cyfae that can survive without breathing but most of them would have escaped on their own. Some sort lledrith, I think." He responded distractedly as he tried something else and failed again. "Mify rhydd chwi, addo I."
"Did it happen te occur te ye" Jack began cautiously "that maybe there was a reason why she was locked away?"
"I was locked away for any number of reasons, Sparrow" he rebutted without taking his attention off the pathetically small chest. "Besides these sigils were set by Unben Lofrudd, one of the few Ellyllon who was whole heartedly in support of the current King and I might add the same Ellyllon who sealed my own carchar. I suspect I know what's in here. I'm frankly at a loss as to if I should hope I'm right or pray I'm wrong."
"And that would be?" Jack prompted when Mallory appeared to dismiss us entirely in favor of concentrating on the carchar.
"The Meddwi Alarches – the Bonny Swan." He paused while another light show split the darkness "It's a harp and a woman, sort of." He worried his lip, eyes narrowed. "You might want to step back, if this doesn't work it's likely to be hazardous to anyone in range."
Jack grasped Mallory's shoulder "I take it that includes you."
Mallory sidled smoothly out from under Jack's hand "I'll be fine."
"But where's the profit it for ye?" Jack challenged.
"I swear you sound like Bess. I've never in my life done a damned thing for profit. I've got my faults but greed isn't one of them. I don't kill people for things. And I'm getting her out of there, Captain Jack Sparrow, even if it kills me. Now, please, step aside. I will survive but I don't know if you would."
"What about Will?" Elizabeth asked rising to face him.
"He'll be fine as well, milady."
"You said that earlier" she rebutted "and he nearly died when you tried to leave."
"Pearl surprised me" he replied with easy confidence "I've made allowances this time. Your husband will be as safe as any breathing thing ever is."
He gave both of them an icy green glare until they stepped back. It was amazing how quickly he could go from a rambling lethargic wreck to cool competence. He gave a whole new meaning to the word temperamental – I'll never complain about Elizabeth's mood swings again. Maybe he wouldn't have had a problem in a fight tonight – except the hobgoblin said he'd die if he left alone. He took several long breaths and the night exploded with sound and light. Mallory himself and the chest were both engulfed in the blinding fury. When we could see again Mallory was draped limply over the chest. Jack rushed forward with my father on his heels. Only to be met by the glowing white dagger tip as Mallory whirled and fell back heavily onto the top of the carchar. But in spite of being barely conscience his grip on the hilt never wavered.
"I'm fine."
"And I'm the King of England" Jack snapped back.
Mallory blinked looking even more glassy eyed than before "You'd be desperately unhappy even if" he shook his head and sheathed the dagger. He tried to give them one of his bows and nearly landed on his bum "My profit, pronoun, professional, pro"
"Profound?" Jack offered.
"That's it – my profound apologies" he slid down the carchar into a puddle of Mallory on the Pearl's dark decking at Jack's feet. A second little pile of white sand stood out against the black boards.
"Damn Lofrudd, I killed him too quickly. Never managed to break the sigils on my carchar either."
"Then how did you ever manage to escape?"
"My Oed. You have your sacraments to mark the stages of your lives, we have our own. Angheuol beginning at a year and a day to determine if we have the right to live, the Defod timed to coincide with puberty when we are chosen by the draig, Oed which marks the coming of age for anyone not of House Penthalion and the Taithe for House Penthalion, and the Oedran at 210 to mark the coming of age for House Penthalion." Another odd little not laugh "I actually have more experience than anyone in the Citadel but if I were to slay my sire today I would have to rule under a regency since I'm decades short of my 'majority'." He sighed "I didn't break out of the carchar. I was pulled out for the ceremony and given a choice between another round of my sire's idea of paternal affection and a quick exit stage left – I took the exit." He laid his head against the stone his voice suddenly going higher and lighter "I hear you – I do. I'll get you out, I promise. There has to be a way. I'll find it." He rolled easily up off the decking to face the carchar again. "Speaking of over hasty kills I'd very much like to know how the Duke of Marlborough's little flunky got his grubby paws on this."
"He claimed a wee little man named Robin gave it to him and told him he'd die the day he parted with it" Gibbs offered "sounds like terrible bad luck."
Mallory rocked back, eyes clear "That's interesting, that's very interesting." He drummed his fingers on the top "What was your game this time Puck?" He was suddenly far more guarded.
"You don't trust Robin Goodfellow?" my father asked "You had him break me out of Newgate."
Mallory's eyes narrowed instantly, his hand dropped to the hilt of his dagger, and I swear his ears flattened against his head "Never. And how do you know his name William Blake? He never gave it to you when he released you nor when you rode him. Wind was always watching and reporting to me." The air crackled with a restrained power "What did The Hobgoblin ask of you?"
"That I summon you to save my son" was his instant response.
"Why?" Mallory shot back with eyes once more glowing with their own inner, malevolent light.
"He didn't say" my father lied.
"Didn't he?" Mallory hissed, not fooled for an instant "Keep your own counsel then, Bill, but know this you entered into an accord with The Hobgoblin – you shake hands with that kind and you do well to count your fingers every day for the rest of your natural life."
"You said was" my father said nervously.
"Robin Goodfellow tangled with a mardeth in 1707. They destroyed each other. Odd really that someone that old and wise would pick such a mismatched fight. Never would have thought a hob had a snowball in hell's chance against a mardeth but Puck always was full of surprises."
"He did it for you" my father stated boldly.
"What?" Mallory sounded shaken.
"He told me if his Prince lived to claim his throne he'd have four less enemies and one less ally."
Mallory just dropped onto the carchar looking if anything more stunned then when he'd knocked himself unconscious.
"HIS Prince, you're utterly certain of that? Not the prince, not crown prince, not the Penthalion heir, but HIS Prince."
"Aye, he called ye naught but me Prince" my father replied.
Mallory just blinked and then swore long and fiercely in El'lan.
"Is there a perhaps a problem?" Jack asked in patent Jack fashion.
"No, no problem at all" Mallory rebutted sarcastically. "As if the bloody stakes weren't already high enough trust Puck to up the ante."
"Would ye care te elaborate for the rest o us?" Jack inquired with flourish that took the little knot around the carchar.
"Puck was a hobgoblin – true cyfae to the core and until he died the oldest breathing thing alive. Beyond that Puck had never acknowledged the right of the Ellyllon to rule the cyfae. By calling me his Prince he swore me his and the other hobs allegiance, broke eight thousand years of stubborn resistance, and he died fighting a mardeth. He was a seer and I can only think of one thing that could drive him to those extremes – a no holds barred cyfae war." He blinked wide horrified eyes "I don't even want to consider the consequences. It won't be confined to the Cynfyd, Dragon's breath you'd be able to swim in the blood." He paced the deck with an easy cat-like grace. He turned back to carchar "The question is what was Puck's real intent? To aid me or to destroy me?"
"He said he gave you his allegiance" my father protested.
"The Churchills said that to James Stuart too, but you were there, Bill, when he tried to give Guilliam of Orange the Army. I would hardly be the first Penthalion Puck betrayed and destroyed. His aversion to both our existence and our policies is long-standing and well known. So is that really the Bonny Swan or something else cleverly disguised? Clearly he meant for it to come into my hands but is it a trap or not? What was your game Puck?" He sighed and crossed to the carchar. "You might have made this a bit easier" he muttered to no one.
"Begging yer pardon" Jack began "but ye said it might, just possibly mind, be a trap."
"If it is it is well baited" he laid an ear against the smooth white stone and whispered something soothing "I can't leave her in here even if it kills me. And I don't think it is a trap – he died fighting one of his erstwhile allies. I think he really did give me the hobs. I haven't a clue what to do with them mind you." There was another fountain of sparks "I just wish he'd broken a few of these. This was far more his area of expertise than mine." He drummed his fingers on the top and worried his lip "There has to be a way. Why arrange for me to come into possession of the thrice benighted thing if I can't get it open?" He'd completely dismissed our existence while glaring at the carchar.
"What is the Bonny Swan?"
His gaze flickered to Elizabeth and he rocked back onto his heels "So busy learning history and pirate legends that you ignored your fairy tales, milady? It's a very old but still well known tale even among your people." He began to chant as he continued to stare at the white stone…
A king dwelt in the north country,
He had daughters one, two, three.
Two daughters walked by the river's brim.
The elder pushed the younger in.
The Swan swims so bonny o.
Oh, sister, oh, sister pray lend me your hand
And I shall give you house and land.
I'll give you neither hand nor glove
And I shall have all and your own true love.
The Swan swims so bonny o.
Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam
Until she lodged in a miller's dam.
There came an Ellyllon prince passing by
And he heard her heart's cry.
The Swan swims so bonny o.
He made harp pins of her fingers fair
He made harp strings of her flowing hair
He crafted a harp of his Blood and her bone
And straight it began to play alone.
The Swan swims so bonny o.
He brought her to her father's hall
And there was the court assembled all.
He set her down upon the stone
And straight she began to play alone.
The Swan swims so bonny o.
There doth sit my father the King
And yonder is my mother the Queen
And there doth sit my brother Hugh
And by him my beloved, sweet and true.
And there doth sit my false sister Aine
Who drowned me for greed and a man.
The Swan swims so bonny o.
"The Ellyllon prince was Taliesin, my grandfather's eldest brother, who happened to share my knack for hearing the dead. He couldn't give her back the life had been reft from her nor could he disregard her pleases for her beloved. You see she had been promised to a wealthier, more powerful prince in spite of being the youngest because they were in love, a perfect match personally and politically, except the elder sister believed it should have been hers. With the birth of their first son to cement her position she intended to kill him. The Bonny Swan begged him to save her beloved but he couldn't storm into her father's hall and accuse her sister of murder without proof. So instead he took what remained of her body and enaid and a bit of his own life's Blood and made a harp of them. That's why I can hear her and Sparrow can't. He doesn't hear the dead but I do." He tried something else and failed again. "The sister met her just fate but the Bonny Swan was no longer the girl she had once been. Her beloved was wed to the surviving sister."
Elizabeth made a small sound of protest.
"I never claimed it was a happy tale, just an old one, but not without its brighter moments. The harp and the young prince had become quite infatuated with each other and they remained together until his mysterious death some decades later. His younger brother in spite of being just past his own defod slipped out of Avalon intent on discovering his brother's fate. All he ever found was the damaged harp which he repaired with his own Blood and played for some years until his own equally enigmatic death. Shortly before that though, he gave the harp to his father, Weldig, when he brought his son Artorius to Avalon and laid him in his own tomb. Weldig gave the harp a place of honor in the Citadel and it is said that he would lock himself away with it for days at a time hearing in her the last echoes of his beloved elder sons, Myrddin and Taliesin, who like every other Dichlyn a Nimrais were lost mysteriously and alone during their Taithes. The harp remained one of my grandsire's most cherished possessions as his last link to the brothers he barely knew. It is said among the ageless cyfae that Taliesin was the greatest musician ever born and that to hear the Bonny Swan is to hear that greatness preserved. When the harp was stolen all of Avalon joined the search. But nothing was ever found and for over two and a half centuries the fate of the Bonny Swan has been a question unanswered. I would say given that this was sealed by one of my sire's flunkies that she saw or heard something He didn't want known and was interred to ensure her silence." He frowned "I think perhaps it's time to try the library method" he said and pulled his dagger.
"What kind of library requires daggers?" Jack asked with a golden grin.
"As I used to try to drum into your head Sparrow, knowledge is power. My sire had the Citadel's library sealed against me by Lofrudd. He piled sigil on sigil against magic on the lock and the keys but he never warded it against just being picked. I spent over a year breaking into the library every night while the two of them were blithely content that nothing could breach their defenses."
"In case it had escaped your attention, there's no lock."
"It hadn't. What I meant was for all of the lavish magical guards there may very well be nothing to stop me from physically prying it open. Sorry" he apologized to his dagger as he wedged it the crack and pulled it right back out. It dangled rather absurdly from his forefinger. It looked for all the world like the red dragon on the hilt was chewing on his finger. It wasn't until the blood started dripping onto the deck that I accepted the evidence of my eyes – it was chewing on his finger. He wrapped his other hand around the dragon and forced its jaws apart. It tried to twist out of his grip but he held it with a practiced ease. It shot a resentful flare of fire at him about which he appeared completely indifferent as he deftly muzzled it. The white dragon immediately took advantage of his counterpart's inconvenience to attack him.
"Sefyll" Mallory barked with an authority the like of which I'd never heard before. Both dragons went back to glaring at each other and Mallory slid the dagger back into the seam. Both stone and dagger groaned in protest but neither gave. He wiggled the dagger in a bit deeper, braced himself, and closed his eyes. He swayed like Jack after a third bottle of rum and the carchar cracked its entire length. He listed onto one arm, panting slightly before gathering himself and sending the lid crashing onto the deck. None of the crewmen having their own private party on the other side of the deck even flinched. Come to think of it they hadn't reacted to any of Mallory's other attempts to breach the carchar either. Were they seeing any of this or had Mallory thrown up some sort of glamour? He must have.
He was purring a constant stream of El'lan into the broken carchar. The voice was soothing but the eyes were suffused with anger and hate. How can you hate like that and it not leek over into your voice? He pulled a small double bladed knife out of his boot and laid his palm open cupping the blood in his other hand before taking what appeared to be dozens of slivers of bone out of the carchar.
"Is that?"
"He shattered her" his voice was still even and soothing but his eyes were blazing white hot fury "He shattered her and locked her away. I'll fix you I swear. It'll be alright." He picked through the pieces with his bloodied hands, slowly fitting them together and sealing them with his blood as the rest of us watched. A harp carved with a swan's wings but a woman's hands and face gradually emerged. He reached over and grabbed one of the dark bottles draining away nearly half. Then he tucked her sound box in tight against his chest and abruptly laid both wrists open with the boot knife. Elizabeth and the Governor both gasped in either surprise or horror as blood at first flowed freely across the harp's ivory surface and then began sink in. The harp came abruptly to life. Her little mouth made an o – a soundless scream of horror and she lashed out at Mallory. Who deflected something with his hands while continuing to purr El'lan at her with blood dripping off his elbows and onto the Pearl's dark boards "Boddhain gadu myfi cymorth chwi. Mi tyngue Mi bodd dim o afles. Mi nis. Ei bodd fynnu. Boddhain. Boddhain. Come on, hear what I am saying." She lashed out at him again. "Mrs. Turner would you be so kind as to come into her line of sight? She doesn't realize I'm not my sire and she's fighting me. She doesn't understand where she is. Boddhain, boddhain gadu myfi cymorth chwi. Mi tyngue Mi bodd dim o afles. Boddhain. I'm asking lass He never asked for a damn thing in his life." The harp recoiled and then relaxed a bit as Elizabeth sat in front of my father on my left. Mallory dropped his hands gently back onto the harp. He gave Jack a wry glance "I think the Fates have mixed up which of us is which tonight. That makes four women in as many hours to have slapped me."
The question slipped out before I could stop it "And did you deserve it?"
"From the Sea, undoubtedly, I was being an utter cad, from the Pearl, possibly, by Anna-Maria decidedly not, and the Bonny Swan thought I was my sire back to do her more harm." He ran his hands over his forearms, turned back to the carchar and began rooting around it like a dog after a bone. The fury was suddenly back in spades and he began to curse in something that was neither El'lan nor English.
"Neither of those is physically possible and you spilt an infinitive" Jack commented bringing the diatribe to a halt.
"I wasn't looking for a grammar lesson, Sparrow."
"Couldn't resist mate, I've never heard ye make a mistake before. Now what are ye looking for?"
"He took her strings. He took her voice and her reason for living. She's an instrument – there's no point to her life if she can't play." Head and shoulders both dropped "I'd have done better to leave her in the carchar broken forever."
"So restring her" Jack suggested.
"He made harp strings of her flowing hair – she can't be strung with anything el.." he looked at Elizabeth "What boon would you ask for nineteen strands of your hair?"
"Will it work?"
"I don't know but I would like to try. What boon would you ask of the Blood?"
Elizabeth stammered "I don't know what to ask."
"The Blood acknowledges a debt as yet unpaid" he was not happy about that and started to rise. Only a quick grab by Jack kept him from measuring his length on the deck. He just sagged for a moment in Jack's grip before trying to regain his feet. Jack's hands had completely disappeared into the glamour.
"Bloody hell" Jack paled "When did you last eat?"
"It's irrelevant" Mallory snapped back weakly trying to pull away and failing "I can't starve."
"Celwyddwr" Liar my memory supplied "That harp has more meat on its bones than you do. Gibbs fetch something from the galley."
"Belay that" Mallory ordered with all of the authority he'd used on the dragons in spite of the fact that Jack was still supporting most of his weight. Gibbs froze clearly torn.
"Who's Captain of this ship?" Jack growled.
"You are, Captain Jack Sparrow, but I'm not one of your crew anymore." He wiggled free because he didn't have the strength to break Jack's hold. "And I don't take orders. I'll eat when and if it suits me."
"Fine." Jack retorted with more anger than I'd ever heard in his voice "But Gibbs is part of me crew and he will be fetching something from the galley. Ye can be a stubborn fool if ye like or ye can eat."
"I'm fine" Mallory barked back but I remembered my father's comments about lock kneed, never let them see you bleed stances. Mallory looked like a summer breeze would take him off his feet. Clearly the harp had been one magical feat too many in a single day.
"I asked ye earlier, now I'm asking again – will ye please drop yer bloody glamour? Bill's seen ye, Gibbs has seen ye, I'd like te see the real face o the Ellyllon that raised me."
Had that been what touched off the fight I'd missed? I'd have to ask Elizabeth later. Wherever he'd been before coming here must have been sandy because he'd left another little pile of it behind squirming free of Jack.
"I told you no earlier, I've no intention of changing my mind tonight. Now with your permission Captain, I'd like to attempt to give the Meddwi Alarches back a voice."
Jack waved his hands "By all means carry on. Work yerself te bleeding death if that's what ye want."
Elizabeth silently handed him strands of her hair and he carefully stung the harp. He blew across the strings and the harp played in a questioning tone with Elizabeth's voice.
"Mallory ap Auberon, tywysogion a Avalon."
"Mallory?" the harp played back "a Nimrais?"
"Dis"
The harp played too quickly for me to even separate words.
Mallory replied "Fel chwi cyffelb. Mrs. Turner, the Swan would very much like to meet the woman who generously gave her a new voice."
Elizabeth curtsied and Mallory said something in El'lan to which the harp replied.
"I always wanted to learn the harp" Elizabeth said quietly "My nurse told me my mother played."
"Yes, she did" the Governor sounded slightly choked "She played beautifully. I never gave you music lessons because.." he let his words trail off as he discretely wiped his eyes.
"Be gentle with her, and go softly she's whole but not yet healed."
Elizabeth looked at Mallory questioningly.
"She loved Taliesin and he died tragically and young, she loved Myrddin and he went mad and died even younger, she'd rather not see me. She doesn't want become attached to another doomed Ellyllon prince and I don't blame her. You can teach her English and she can teach you to play."
Elizabeth carefully picked up the harp who averted her eyes from Mallory. He flopped back into his place next to the cask. He'd bounced back from the earlier blows by the Pearl and the carchar with amazing speed – going from semi-conscious to clear eyed and graceful in moments. He wasn't bouncing this time. Gibbs approached him like a man being asked to feed a starving lion but Mallory just ignored both him and the soup.
Jack picked his rum back up "So who do we toast to next?"
Mallory just stared back with glazed, exhausted eyes. When the silence stretched to breaking Elizabeth offered "To Bloody Mary?"
"Don't call her that" Mallory protested quietly "Of all of us she deserves that least. The rest of us were far worse killers than Mary ever was."
"She burned people alive" Elizabeth protested.
"And she wept over every one of them" he sounded utterly drained "If I hadn't interfered, milady, you'd be a Catholic today and she'd be a hero. If we had by some act of absolute stupidity managed to loose against the Armada you'd curse Drake's name. The difference between a hero and a villain is often nothing more than which side of the fight you're on. Mary was by far and away the best of us. She was twice the woman Bess was but less than half the Queen."
"King Edward didn't kill anyone" she argued.
It wasn't a smile that twisted his face "He would have if he'd lived long enough. He use to keep a little merlin in his chambers and one day in a fit of pique he plucked her and ripped her to pieces with his bare hands. And he was certainly never sorry for the act. Now, I ask you, if he could do that to a bird he professed to love without a single qualm what would he have done to England?"
"You killed him" she breathed.
"No, I was half a world away when he died on my first circumnavigation of the world. The only thing I ever did to Ned put sand in his ink. Oh, and I shot his dog." He raised his bottle "To the most unhappy lady in Christendom" and drank deeply. "I use to think being a good man and a good king were mutually exclusive. I knew every king in Europe and a good bit of the rest of the world for over sixty years and only once did I meet a good man who also made a good king."
Mr. Cotton was quietly walking toward us. I'd been wondering what became of him since I hadn't seen him or his parrot until now. One of Mallory's ears twitched slightly acknowledging his approach and dismissing it. Then Mr. Cotton dropped something in his lap that sent Mallory scuttling back over the remaining bottles (I was rather impressed that he didn't knock any over). Well, there was nothing wrong with his reaction time. I glanced down at the musical instrument that had inspired his retreat. Given Mallory's reaction and the white dragon on the front it could only be the cetera that he'd dropped into the sea with Captain Gray. But it wasn't the cetera that Mallory was blinking at in horror. It was Mr. Cotton himself.
Historical note: Granuaile Ui Mhaille was in fact known in her day as the Irish pirate sheKing. She remains to this day one of the few (perhaps the only) female pirate captains in Western history. She had as many as twenty ships and well over 200 men at her command and 3 galleys of indeterminate make, "Ships unique to the coast of Ireland" to quote Sir Sidney one of Queen Elizabeth's men in Ireland. These ships could and did back down small naval vessels. Given that history provides no info other than they had 30 sweeps each I picture them as ships designed by Mallory and similar (though smaller) to the Pearl.
The bit about Edward Tudor and the falcon is straight out of history.