Mark The Earth With Ruin

Chapter 2

Maman took the Hand from the tall, bearded pirate, gently wiping the blood from it, and placed it back on the stone table in the center of the cave. "You was right, Edward. You never needed this to make you what you is. Now you take the young Jack here and get yourself back to the Revenge, get that lad's arm bound up so it don't heal wrong."

Edward Teach nodded his great shaggy head, putting a tender arm around fifteen-year-old Jack's shoulders. "That I'll do, Maman. We'll wait fer ye."

Maman shook her head, her long white hair lifting and settling around her shoulders. "No need. I has to remain, make sure the Hand is protected."

"How can ye? She blinded ye," the pirate said, almost apologetically. "It ain't right, leaving a blind woman alone. Even you, Maman."

Maman shrugged. "Aye, my eyes is dead, but I got other ways to see. You don't fear about that. But this I has to do, and do now."

Clearly unhappy about it, Teach nodded, turning to go, then hesitated. "What about young Jack here? He knows where it is. And she knows he knows."

The old woman shook her head. "I is too old for this, that's clear. I clean forgot. Here, boy. You takes this." She held out a small bag, tied to a string. Feeling along his face gently, Maman looped it around Jack's neck.

He plucked at it with his good hand. "What's this?" he asked.

"You wears this all the time, non? The witch can't get to you while you has this on you." Maman nodded with satisfaction. "An' if you needs me, you burns it. Not the whole thing, mind, else you won't keep the protection. But you burns it, an' I come."

Jack frowned. "But she's dead."

Maman and Teach exchanged looks. "Come on, Jack," said Teach.

Jack peered into the water as they made their way out of the cave. There she was, her face still and white and blurred by the water, her hair a raven cloud around her, moving gently with the lapping of the sea.

And then her black eyes opened.

Jack sat bolt upright with a shout, gulping for air. By the Powers, he'd not had that dream in years.

He passed a shaking hand over his face, and then groped in his shirt for the charm Maman had given him. As always, it gave him peace.

Jack swung his legs from the bed and padded to the desk, grasping the decanter of rum and taking a healthy swig right from the bottle. This was what came of sobriety, he thought grimly to himself. Terrors in the afternoon. Memories grabbing one by the short hairs. He took another swig. Half-seas-over had much to recommend it, in Jack's frank opinion, no matter what Ned said.

But then Ned hadn't seen all Jack had.

Jack eyed the remaining contents of the decanter, seriously considering finishing it off. But tonight was that flaming ball, and Ned would have his head if Jack missed it, or showed up three sheets to the wind.

The rum was burning a comfortable path to his head. Jack sighed happily, and then was startled by an urgent knock on the door. One of the Governor's manservants cracked the door open. "Sir? Are you awake?"

Jack beckoned him in. "What's happened?"

"The Governor asked me to wake you if necessary, to give you a message."

Jack made a winding motion with his hand. "Well? What is it?"

The servant cleared his throat pontifically. "First, that this evening's ball has been cancelled due to the recent rash of illnesses in the town. And second and most importantly, the Governor asks that you meet him at the smithy. His exact words were, 'Trouble at Will's – tell Lord John to hurry'."

~*~

Jack slid easily from the back of the horse he'd borrowed from Edmund's stable and ran to the smithy house door. The sound of hoofs on cobbles had evidently alerted those inside, for the door was thrown open as he raised his hand to pound. Jack brushed past Norrington's sister – Evelyn? Ethel? Emmy, that was it – with a nod. "Where is everyone? What's happened?"

Emmy indicated the stairs. "They're all up there."

Jack threw his coat across the front room table and headed for the landing. "What's happened?" he repeated. "Lizbet, she's not…?"

"No, no," Emmy said quickly. "It's Mr. Turner's father."

That stopped him with a foot on the step. "Old Bill? What's happened to him?"

"He's quite ill," she said quietly, and Jack could hear in her voice that it was serious.

He shook his head. "You don't mean – he's not going to – for God's sake, woman, I just saw the man t'other day! He was right as a fiddle!"

Emmy nodded gravely. "I know, it comes on suddenly. A matter of days only. We lost several sailors on the crossing like this."

Jack glared at her. "You came on a plague ship? And you docked as though nothing was wrong?"

She glared right back, hands fisted on her hips. "I docked – ? I understand you're upset, my lord, but you have no call to be hollering at me as though I were the master of the damned ship!" Emmy clapped a hand to her mouth, clearly horrified to be caught swearing.

The slip made Jack feel marginally better for some reason. "You're absolutely right, Miss Norrington. My apologies." He had started upstairs again when she cleared her throat gently. Jack cocked a dark eyebrow at her, impatient to be with Bill. "Yes?"

"I – I've sent for help," Emmy began nervously, twisting her hands together. "I hope no one will think me too presumptuous; I know it isn't my place, but Mr. Turner is so very upset, and Ned too. I wanted to help in some way." She went on, speaking very quickly. "Mrs. Palmer was aboard the ship with me, and it was she who saved the lives of the captain and many of the crew. I've paid a lad to find her – she was to come to the ball, and I know she was staying somewhere in town rather than travel back to Montego Bay tonight. Is that – was that all right?"

Bloody lot anyone could do about it now if it weren't, thought Jack, but outwardly he smiled. "It was kind in you to think of it. If this Mrs. Palmer can do anything to help I know Will will be grateful."

She nodded jerkily, and Jack took the rest of the stairs two at a time. He actually had his hand on the latch of Bill's bedroom door when he heard a small sniffle from down the hall. The top of a honey-colored head and one dark, watery eye peeped out from behind Lizbet's door.

Jack went to his knees and opened his arms. "Come here, poppet." She caught him in a flying tackle, burying her face in his neck, much to the detriment of Lord John's neckcloth. "All right, then, pet, ease off to starboard a bit. What's all this then?"

She gave a big sniffle. "Grandpapa is going to die, and Godpapa is sending me away, and Papa won't talk to me, and everyone is rushing about and nobody will tell me what's happening!"

"Well." Jack sat back on his heels and regarded the child. "That's quite a list. Who says your grandpapa is going to die?"

Lizbet knuckled her nose. "I heard Rose say she was afraid of it."

"And so she would be, but that doesn't mean it's what's to come. Don't give up so easily, poppet. What was next on that list of yours?"

"I have to go away."

Jack nodded. "And we'll all miss you sorely, but it's what's best when there's disease abroad. Your Godpapa wants to keep you safe. Where are you to go, did they say?"

She shook her head. "On a ship, with my god-aunt. And Belle, of course."

"Of course." God-aunt? Oh, the little Norrington. Jack smiled. "If anyone can keep you safe, Belle can. Remember?"

Lizbet nodded. "And Papa is too worried about Grandpapa to talk to me. I know."

He chucked her under the chin. "Right you are, my chick."

She buried her face in his waistcoat. "But I don't want to go away! Can't I stay with you?"

Jack thought for a bit. "What d'you say to an escort out of Jamaica harbor? I can't be on the ship with you; Papa might need me here. But the Pearl can see your ship safely to open water, if you like."

One brown eye peeked up at him. "And Captain Jack Sparrow? Smoke and all?"

He grinned. "And the Captain, if I can find him." She giggled and he sent her off to Belle with a pat on the head.

~*~

It was so much worse than Jack had anticipated. Ned beckoned him into the darkened room. The body on the wide, comfortable bed was so still it took a full minute of staring before Jack could see the faint rise and fall of his old friend's chest. A raspy wheeze accompanied each breath. Bill's lips were blue, though his color was unnaturally high.

Rose sat at his head, gently stroking his forehead and hair, occasionally leaning down to whisper something to him. Will gripped his father's hand as if to hold him in the world by force, his expression a poignant mix of heartbroken and grimly determined. Edmund watched over all, a frown of deep concern on his face.

Bill gasped and choked, and they all jumped in surprise. His eyes opened, looking wildly round, lighting on Jack. "Cap'n…" he said in a harsh whisper. "Jack… I need ye t'do summat fer me."

Will got up and indicated Jack should take his place, which he did awkwardly. "Can you not ask me when you're better, Bill?"

Bootstrap started to laugh, which turned to a gurgling cough; pinkish drool slid from his mouth, which Rose caught with a clean rag. "Don't be daft, man." He lifted a hand and fisted it in Jack's shirtfront, his grip surprisingly strong. "I need ye, Jack."

"I'm here, Bill." Jack leaned in, trying not to flinch at the sight of his friend's ravaged face and bloodshot eyes.

"Take care of me lad, Jack. Don't let him grieve too long – I've done him enough hurt in life."

From the corner of his eye Jack saw Ned tug Will into a hard embrace, smothering the younger man's sorrow. "You know I will, Bill."

"Aye." The dying man nodded. "I do that. Ye allus were a good friend t'me, Jack. One other thing."

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. "Aye, Bill, anything."

"When I've – " Bill coughed and started again. "When ye think I'm gone, burn me body t'ash."

Jack reared back in horror. "What?" he cried, simultaneously with Will's "No!"

Bill groped for Jack's shirt again. "I mean it, Jack. Swear t'me ye'll do it, no matter what ye may see – " And then he was convulsed by harsh, barking coughs. He fell back onto the pillows, his eyes fluttering shut.

There was a gentle knock at the door, which opened to admit Emmy and a petite, dark-haired woman. A beautiful woman. "Mrs. Annie Palmer," Emmy said briefly as the stranger approached the bed. "She was able to help some of the men on the ship, so I hoped perhaps…"

Jack got to his feet with a bow. Edmund stretched out a hand to greet the newcomer. "'Tis kind of you to offer your help, Mrs. Palmer."

She glanced at his hand, then up at his face. "You'll be the Governor, then?" Annie Palmer took Edmund's outstretched hand in her smaller one and then smiled, slowly.

Jack discovered he didn't like her smile very much.