A gentle breeze blew through the sails, ruffling the red hair of a young
woman, moonlit as she huddled against the mast, hidden from the deck in the
crow's nest of the Red Dragon. Marin could not stem the flood of tears that
wracked her body, lost in a sea of memories she couldn't suppress as the
enormity of what had happened hit her mercilessly.
Elias was gone, resting now beneath the waves he had loved so well. No more would she hear his gruff laughter, or be welcome back on board with an embrace rough in its tender affection. How could she go on without him? For as far back as she could remember, he had been the constant presence in her life, the friend, the companion . . . the only father she had known. He had given years of his life to her, when he could as easily have left her to die, struggling in the warm waters amidst the wreckage of the merchantman.
The moon seemed unjustly bright, shining down on the sorrowful girl with an obscenely cheerful light. What right had the moon to such cheer when her whole world had crumbled to dust in the space of a single evening? Elias had called her his light. What shelter was there now for a light in danger of sputtering out?
Memories crowded in on her, not giving her a moment's peace as she fought to control her own emotions once again. Each time the tears ebbed for even a moment, another image of her beloved guardian would enter her mind and the flood began again, dripping from her nose and chin as she hugged herself, resting her aching head against the mast. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her dirk, and she smiled through the tears, remembering the day he had given it to her.
She had been eight years old, just learning how to fight. Elias' sabre had proved too heavy for her juvenile hands to manage, and he refused to teach her with one of the rapiers they had taken from one or another ship. It was not a pirate's weapon, he'd insisted. So she'd struggled on, trying to build up her strength to lift the unyielding weapon, wanting to please him so very much. And then, finally, he had given up watching her struggle, producing a fine, long blade from his boot and giving it to her with a flourish. She had laughed at his long suffering expression, leaping up into his arms to thank him for such a gift as he spun her about the deck, uncaring if the crew looked on.
Much good his lessons had done her, she thought bitterly. She hadn't even been able to take revenge for his injury, let alone prevent it from happening altogether. She should have been able to help him! And yet, in a way, it was good that she hadn't defeated Danielson. Elias would never have forgiven her for shedding blood, especially blood of his blood, as he would say.
No one moved on the deck below, each too shocked by the loss of the captain even to sleep comfortably that night. Neither Jack nor James had returned to their ships, and Marin knew it was because they were afraid she was going to do something stupid. But even if she had the inclination to end her life, her promise to Elias would hold her back. She had sworn to remain by Jack's side, and she'd be damned if she was going to disobey the last request of her guardian.
Elias had always been there, she realised. Even in those moments when he should have had other things on his mind, he was always in the background, watching her as she fumbled her way through whatever task had been set her. Again she smiled, remembering this time the bursts of bad temper he had been prone to, particularly when she had put herself in unnecessary danger.
The incident that sprang to mind had happened during her sixth summer. She'd been with them for four years, fully accepted as one of the crew and an irrevocable part of the captain's life. The bo'sun had taken her up into the rigging to show her Port Smith from the sea, knowing that the view would excite the little girl. She remembered so clearly him telling her not to move from the crow's nest as he slipped along to secure one of the ropes that was flapping in the wind. Being the inquisitive child that she was, Marin hadn't obeyed him, venturing out along the spar itself. She didn't notice the lack of hand holds until a particularly violent pitch of the ship threw her forwards. If the bo'sun hadn't had the extremely sharp reflexes that made him so invaluable to the crew, she would have toppled to her death on the deck far below.
Marin smiled. Elias had been furious, though not with her. He had seen her taken to his cabin, shutting the door behind the bewildered little girl before launching into a blistering attack on everything from the bo'sun's common sense to the lack of any propriety in his ancestry. Knowing the captain was just shaken from what had happened, the seaman had taken the reprimand in his stride, ignoring the insults rained on his head by the distracted man.
Elias had been so protective of her. He'd kept her sheltered from the more gruesome aspects of his life until she was ready for them, refusing to let her take part in the murderous things he had done. He'd been the constant in her life, the one who woke her each morning, who tucked her in safe each night, who watched over her when she was ill . . . who loved her as only a parent could love a child.
And now he was gone. No more ridiculous jokes made to lighten the mood, no more loud carousing in the taverns on land wherever they would dock. No more Elias. Marin scrubbed brutally at her eyes, willing the tears to stop, but to no avail. It seemed as though she was doomed to weep until there were no more tears to come.
He had always loved her singing, making a point of teaching her a new song each week, until she had a fine enough repertoire to sing any song you could care to name, from the less known sea-shanties to the folk songs that reminded so many of the homes they had left behind. A haunting melody drifted through her mind, choking her breath as she tried to push it aside. She never wanted to remember the moment he had gone from her, slipping gently off to the sleep from which he would never wake as she sang the song he had requested from her. And yet, The Parting Glass would not leave her mind, awakening old memories she had thought forgotten and keeping those she wished to forget alive within her.
Only hours before he had sat up in that bunk of his, telling her not to clean his face because he was afraid the Lord might not recognise him if he wasn't as dirty as he had always been. Now his body rested beneath the waves, wrapped up in a hammock for a shroud. Marin had witnessed many sea burials, but never had she seen a company of men so still and sorrowful.
No words were spoken, for there were none that could express what the old pirate had been to so many people. Just a sharp silence, as they fought to prevent tears. The body had slipped quietly into the water, with hardly a splash. Unable to remain under so many people's eyes, knowing they expected her to crumble, Marin had run from those who would have comforted her, flailing desperately in the rigging as she clambered up to the isolation of the crow's nest.
And here she was, crumbling as they had known she would, unable to stop tears that seemed as though they would flow forever as the wound in her heart rubbed dull pain through her suddenly fragile body. The arms she wrapped about herself could offer nothing in the way of comfort as she contemplated a life without the man who had made her who she was.
There was a grunt of effort nearby, and she glanced up to see Jack scrambling up the rigging to sit beside her, his own eyes wet with tears. He didn't speak, or try to hold her, just sat in silence beside her, the warmth from his body reaching out to fight back the cold that seeped through her.
'Why did it have to be him?' she asked suddenly, aware that her voice was harsh with sorrow.
Jack swallowed, staring up at the moon.
'Who knows, love?' he said softly. 'Maybe it was his time, maybe the good Lord finally decided he was too good for down here . . . there's nothing we can do that will bring him back.'
He heard the hitch in her breath, glancing down to see fresh tears pouring down her face. It tore at his heart to see her in so much pain, but he knew she had to suffer it through. Nothing he could do or say would make it any easier for her, take the pain away. All he could do was be here, at her side as she walked the depths of her despair.
She leant her head onto his shoulder, sobbing violently as the grief finally took over, blotting out all thought and sense. He moved, gathering her into his arms as she pressed her face into his chest, her slender body shaking as she cried the tears that needed to be cried. Her hands clutched at his shirt, holding the sturdy cloth in her tightly clenched fists as his hand moved to cradle the back of her head.
'I want him back,' she sobbed brokenly, uncaring if he heard her or not.
Jack grimaced, trying to hold back his own stabbing grief as he held her against the flood of sorrow that wracked her so deeply. He would give anything to see her safely through this, he knew, anything to take the pain away. But all he could do was wait, as the moon shone brightly down on a scene indescribable in its sorrow.
*~*~*
James leant forward on the table in the great cabin, his hands clasped together as he looked on each of his companions. He had called a family meeting, understanding implicitly that Elias would want them to get on with finding the treasure, rather than wallowing in their grief. He could not quite come to terms with his new status as head of the family, especially when he had only just found out he still had one. But Elias had passed on the mantle, and he must make best use of what he had.
Will sat to his right, the solemn look that hung over his young features a stark reminder of what had happened in this very cabin only hours before. He had not known how to break to the crew his new status as their captain, but somehow they had known that Elias would hand the young pirate the Dragon. They had turned to him that morning, demanding orders, and he had given them automatically, as he had done so many times on board the Lady Swan before she was sunk.
Marin was sat to James's right, Jack close by her, one hand clasped in hers as he watched her carefully. She was still pale, her eyes dull with grief, but James knew if anyone could draw her out of it, it would be Jack. He could see clearly the deep love that they shared, even if they had not yet reached the point of telling one another, and knew that Marin would need the irascible pirate's love more and more as she came to terms with her loss.
He coughed, drawing their attention to him as he glanced about. His hand closed about the stem of the glass by his arm, holding the piece expertly so no wine slopped from it with the rolling of the ship.
'Before I start, may I propose a toast?' he asked gently, his eyes meeting Marin's as she reached for her own glass.
She nodded, preparing herself for a eulogy or something along the lines of one. Jack didn't let go of her as he lifted his wine, sharing a wary look with Will across the table. James nodded, thanking his little cousin without words. This was the only way he could think of to honour Elias without going against everything the old pirate had believed in. He raised his glass, his hand trembling slightly.
'To friends sleeping young,' he said softly.
Marin's eyes quickly sought out his as she repeated the touching phrase, grateful to him for not expounding on Elias' life. He inclined his head imperceptibly to her, lowering the glass once more, and taking out Danielson's locket. He placed it on the table with a barely audible clink.
'First question,' he said wearily. 'What do we do with this?'
They stared at it, each hating the sight of the thing that had caused the death of such a beloved friend. Jack coughed lightly.
'If it's not going against keeping it in the family, mate, might I offer a suggestion?' he ventured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle in the quiet cabin.
James nodded, grateful for any suggestions at this point.
'Well, it seems to me that his share of the treasure is tainted by blood,' Jack said, his voice still low. 'I don't know how these old curses work, but I'm willing to bet heathen gods don't appreciate that sort of foul play, as it were.'
He paused, glancing up at each of them to see if they were following him alright. Marin was staring at the table, but her fingers tightened on his as she felt his gaze on her. She was listening.
'So reason seems to dictate that you don't touch his share,' he suggested. 'I know it goes against what Elias would have done, but I can't think of any other way of leaving the blood that was spilt well alone.'
Will was nodding, remembering the potency of his own blood in one such situation.
'I would agree with that,' he said quietly. 'We use his locket to open the chests, and leave it behind us when we go.'
He glanced up at the commodore.
'Not that it's my decision, of course,' he added. 'As head of the family, commodore, you have the final word.'
James glanced at Marin, waiting until her eyes met his before speaking.
'What do you say, cousin?' he asked her gently.
She pondered it for a moment.
'Elias would have wanted us to take the lot, and split the last share between us,' she said, her tone thoughtful. 'But I agree with Jack. Danielson's gold is too touched by blood for us to have anything to do with it.'
'Then that is what we shall do,' James said firmly. 'The locket will be used to open the chests and thrown into the sea when we are done with it. Agreed?'
They all nodded their assent, waiting to see what else he had to say. James coughed again, unused to taking charge in such a domestic situation.
'I say we return to Port Royale to set certain affairs in order, and sail in spring to find the island,' he said, his voice surprisingly level as he gauged their reactions.
Again Will nodded, having been around the Horn in winter and having no wish to repeat the experience. Jack glanced at Marin before agreeing, seemingly not wanting to disagree with her in case she felt he was isolating her from everything. She looked up at James, her eyes questioning.
'What will you do?' she asked. 'You have a duty to the men under your command, you can't leave them for however many months it takes for us to collect our bounty.'
He smiled at her, appreciating her concern.
'I've already thought of it,' he assured her. 'The governor will grant me a leave of absence to collect my inheritance. The fort will be in Gillette's hands while I am gone.'
She nodded, smiling faintly as she realised he had everything planned out in advance.
'Then I see no reason to disagree,' she said softly. 'Spring it is, cousin.'
Elias was gone, resting now beneath the waves he had loved so well. No more would she hear his gruff laughter, or be welcome back on board with an embrace rough in its tender affection. How could she go on without him? For as far back as she could remember, he had been the constant presence in her life, the friend, the companion . . . the only father she had known. He had given years of his life to her, when he could as easily have left her to die, struggling in the warm waters amidst the wreckage of the merchantman.
The moon seemed unjustly bright, shining down on the sorrowful girl with an obscenely cheerful light. What right had the moon to such cheer when her whole world had crumbled to dust in the space of a single evening? Elias had called her his light. What shelter was there now for a light in danger of sputtering out?
Memories crowded in on her, not giving her a moment's peace as she fought to control her own emotions once again. Each time the tears ebbed for even a moment, another image of her beloved guardian would enter her mind and the flood began again, dripping from her nose and chin as she hugged herself, resting her aching head against the mast. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her dirk, and she smiled through the tears, remembering the day he had given it to her.
She had been eight years old, just learning how to fight. Elias' sabre had proved too heavy for her juvenile hands to manage, and he refused to teach her with one of the rapiers they had taken from one or another ship. It was not a pirate's weapon, he'd insisted. So she'd struggled on, trying to build up her strength to lift the unyielding weapon, wanting to please him so very much. And then, finally, he had given up watching her struggle, producing a fine, long blade from his boot and giving it to her with a flourish. She had laughed at his long suffering expression, leaping up into his arms to thank him for such a gift as he spun her about the deck, uncaring if the crew looked on.
Much good his lessons had done her, she thought bitterly. She hadn't even been able to take revenge for his injury, let alone prevent it from happening altogether. She should have been able to help him! And yet, in a way, it was good that she hadn't defeated Danielson. Elias would never have forgiven her for shedding blood, especially blood of his blood, as he would say.
No one moved on the deck below, each too shocked by the loss of the captain even to sleep comfortably that night. Neither Jack nor James had returned to their ships, and Marin knew it was because they were afraid she was going to do something stupid. But even if she had the inclination to end her life, her promise to Elias would hold her back. She had sworn to remain by Jack's side, and she'd be damned if she was going to disobey the last request of her guardian.
Elias had always been there, she realised. Even in those moments when he should have had other things on his mind, he was always in the background, watching her as she fumbled her way through whatever task had been set her. Again she smiled, remembering this time the bursts of bad temper he had been prone to, particularly when she had put herself in unnecessary danger.
The incident that sprang to mind had happened during her sixth summer. She'd been with them for four years, fully accepted as one of the crew and an irrevocable part of the captain's life. The bo'sun had taken her up into the rigging to show her Port Smith from the sea, knowing that the view would excite the little girl. She remembered so clearly him telling her not to move from the crow's nest as he slipped along to secure one of the ropes that was flapping in the wind. Being the inquisitive child that she was, Marin hadn't obeyed him, venturing out along the spar itself. She didn't notice the lack of hand holds until a particularly violent pitch of the ship threw her forwards. If the bo'sun hadn't had the extremely sharp reflexes that made him so invaluable to the crew, she would have toppled to her death on the deck far below.
Marin smiled. Elias had been furious, though not with her. He had seen her taken to his cabin, shutting the door behind the bewildered little girl before launching into a blistering attack on everything from the bo'sun's common sense to the lack of any propriety in his ancestry. Knowing the captain was just shaken from what had happened, the seaman had taken the reprimand in his stride, ignoring the insults rained on his head by the distracted man.
Elias had been so protective of her. He'd kept her sheltered from the more gruesome aspects of his life until she was ready for them, refusing to let her take part in the murderous things he had done. He'd been the constant in her life, the one who woke her each morning, who tucked her in safe each night, who watched over her when she was ill . . . who loved her as only a parent could love a child.
And now he was gone. No more ridiculous jokes made to lighten the mood, no more loud carousing in the taverns on land wherever they would dock. No more Elias. Marin scrubbed brutally at her eyes, willing the tears to stop, but to no avail. It seemed as though she was doomed to weep until there were no more tears to come.
He had always loved her singing, making a point of teaching her a new song each week, until she had a fine enough repertoire to sing any song you could care to name, from the less known sea-shanties to the folk songs that reminded so many of the homes they had left behind. A haunting melody drifted through her mind, choking her breath as she tried to push it aside. She never wanted to remember the moment he had gone from her, slipping gently off to the sleep from which he would never wake as she sang the song he had requested from her. And yet, The Parting Glass would not leave her mind, awakening old memories she had thought forgotten and keeping those she wished to forget alive within her.
Only hours before he had sat up in that bunk of his, telling her not to clean his face because he was afraid the Lord might not recognise him if he wasn't as dirty as he had always been. Now his body rested beneath the waves, wrapped up in a hammock for a shroud. Marin had witnessed many sea burials, but never had she seen a company of men so still and sorrowful.
No words were spoken, for there were none that could express what the old pirate had been to so many people. Just a sharp silence, as they fought to prevent tears. The body had slipped quietly into the water, with hardly a splash. Unable to remain under so many people's eyes, knowing they expected her to crumble, Marin had run from those who would have comforted her, flailing desperately in the rigging as she clambered up to the isolation of the crow's nest.
And here she was, crumbling as they had known she would, unable to stop tears that seemed as though they would flow forever as the wound in her heart rubbed dull pain through her suddenly fragile body. The arms she wrapped about herself could offer nothing in the way of comfort as she contemplated a life without the man who had made her who she was.
There was a grunt of effort nearby, and she glanced up to see Jack scrambling up the rigging to sit beside her, his own eyes wet with tears. He didn't speak, or try to hold her, just sat in silence beside her, the warmth from his body reaching out to fight back the cold that seeped through her.
'Why did it have to be him?' she asked suddenly, aware that her voice was harsh with sorrow.
Jack swallowed, staring up at the moon.
'Who knows, love?' he said softly. 'Maybe it was his time, maybe the good Lord finally decided he was too good for down here . . . there's nothing we can do that will bring him back.'
He heard the hitch in her breath, glancing down to see fresh tears pouring down her face. It tore at his heart to see her in so much pain, but he knew she had to suffer it through. Nothing he could do or say would make it any easier for her, take the pain away. All he could do was be here, at her side as she walked the depths of her despair.
She leant her head onto his shoulder, sobbing violently as the grief finally took over, blotting out all thought and sense. He moved, gathering her into his arms as she pressed her face into his chest, her slender body shaking as she cried the tears that needed to be cried. Her hands clutched at his shirt, holding the sturdy cloth in her tightly clenched fists as his hand moved to cradle the back of her head.
'I want him back,' she sobbed brokenly, uncaring if he heard her or not.
Jack grimaced, trying to hold back his own stabbing grief as he held her against the flood of sorrow that wracked her so deeply. He would give anything to see her safely through this, he knew, anything to take the pain away. But all he could do was wait, as the moon shone brightly down on a scene indescribable in its sorrow.
*~*~*
James leant forward on the table in the great cabin, his hands clasped together as he looked on each of his companions. He had called a family meeting, understanding implicitly that Elias would want them to get on with finding the treasure, rather than wallowing in their grief. He could not quite come to terms with his new status as head of the family, especially when he had only just found out he still had one. But Elias had passed on the mantle, and he must make best use of what he had.
Will sat to his right, the solemn look that hung over his young features a stark reminder of what had happened in this very cabin only hours before. He had not known how to break to the crew his new status as their captain, but somehow they had known that Elias would hand the young pirate the Dragon. They had turned to him that morning, demanding orders, and he had given them automatically, as he had done so many times on board the Lady Swan before she was sunk.
Marin was sat to James's right, Jack close by her, one hand clasped in hers as he watched her carefully. She was still pale, her eyes dull with grief, but James knew if anyone could draw her out of it, it would be Jack. He could see clearly the deep love that they shared, even if they had not yet reached the point of telling one another, and knew that Marin would need the irascible pirate's love more and more as she came to terms with her loss.
He coughed, drawing their attention to him as he glanced about. His hand closed about the stem of the glass by his arm, holding the piece expertly so no wine slopped from it with the rolling of the ship.
'Before I start, may I propose a toast?' he asked gently, his eyes meeting Marin's as she reached for her own glass.
She nodded, preparing herself for a eulogy or something along the lines of one. Jack didn't let go of her as he lifted his wine, sharing a wary look with Will across the table. James nodded, thanking his little cousin without words. This was the only way he could think of to honour Elias without going against everything the old pirate had believed in. He raised his glass, his hand trembling slightly.
'To friends sleeping young,' he said softly.
Marin's eyes quickly sought out his as she repeated the touching phrase, grateful to him for not expounding on Elias' life. He inclined his head imperceptibly to her, lowering the glass once more, and taking out Danielson's locket. He placed it on the table with a barely audible clink.
'First question,' he said wearily. 'What do we do with this?'
They stared at it, each hating the sight of the thing that had caused the death of such a beloved friend. Jack coughed lightly.
'If it's not going against keeping it in the family, mate, might I offer a suggestion?' he ventured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle in the quiet cabin.
James nodded, grateful for any suggestions at this point.
'Well, it seems to me that his share of the treasure is tainted by blood,' Jack said, his voice still low. 'I don't know how these old curses work, but I'm willing to bet heathen gods don't appreciate that sort of foul play, as it were.'
He paused, glancing up at each of them to see if they were following him alright. Marin was staring at the table, but her fingers tightened on his as she felt his gaze on her. She was listening.
'So reason seems to dictate that you don't touch his share,' he suggested. 'I know it goes against what Elias would have done, but I can't think of any other way of leaving the blood that was spilt well alone.'
Will was nodding, remembering the potency of his own blood in one such situation.
'I would agree with that,' he said quietly. 'We use his locket to open the chests, and leave it behind us when we go.'
He glanced up at the commodore.
'Not that it's my decision, of course,' he added. 'As head of the family, commodore, you have the final word.'
James glanced at Marin, waiting until her eyes met his before speaking.
'What do you say, cousin?' he asked her gently.
She pondered it for a moment.
'Elias would have wanted us to take the lot, and split the last share between us,' she said, her tone thoughtful. 'But I agree with Jack. Danielson's gold is too touched by blood for us to have anything to do with it.'
'Then that is what we shall do,' James said firmly. 'The locket will be used to open the chests and thrown into the sea when we are done with it. Agreed?'
They all nodded their assent, waiting to see what else he had to say. James coughed again, unused to taking charge in such a domestic situation.
'I say we return to Port Royale to set certain affairs in order, and sail in spring to find the island,' he said, his voice surprisingly level as he gauged their reactions.
Again Will nodded, having been around the Horn in winter and having no wish to repeat the experience. Jack glanced at Marin before agreeing, seemingly not wanting to disagree with her in case she felt he was isolating her from everything. She looked up at James, her eyes questioning.
'What will you do?' she asked. 'You have a duty to the men under your command, you can't leave them for however many months it takes for us to collect our bounty.'
He smiled at her, appreciating her concern.
'I've already thought of it,' he assured her. 'The governor will grant me a leave of absence to collect my inheritance. The fort will be in Gillette's hands while I am gone.'
She nodded, smiling faintly as she realised he had everything planned out in advance.
'Then I see no reason to disagree,' she said softly. 'Spring it is, cousin.'