Chapter 15: Cook's revenge
Isabelle didn't say much after her outburst about the Triangle. There wasn't much she could say. She spent her evenings alone, much to the protests of Louisa, pouring over the papers she'd taken from the cavern. It was a diary of sorts, telling the story of a man called Armadaeus who fell to the triangle.
It also told who the skeletons were, but not how they came to be skeletons. 'Three days we were on the raft, looking for the same spot I'd come through. Commodore Matherson tried to tell us we were going in circles, but I, being a sailing man, did not believe him. We believed him once we circled the same island three times. Compasses don't work here, they spin like a needle extended into a windy breeze on a spider's thread.
Alexander Jefferson, the official from the King's court who I mentioned several days ago, was with us also, along with Lieutenant Jonathan Smith. We four on the raft must have looked a motley crew, bobbing around on a misty ocean with only our heads to be seen. There was no point in using the ship for this exercise - we merely needed to find the hole, not to sail through it.'
A knock on the door brought Isabelle's head away from the papers, and had her hastily stuffing them under her pillow. It probably wasn't a good idea, seeing as they were old, stained with salt, and waft thin. Very unlike the thicker paper she was used to reading from. Anamaria knocked again, "Isabelle? Are you feeling better? Will we expect you for dinner?"
Though the temptation to stay and read the papers was strong, so too was her hunger. She hadn't eaten since the outburst, three days before, and she was starving. "Aye, I'll be down, ma'ma."
Isabelle heard a soft sigh from the other side of the door, and buried her head in the pillow. She hated making her mother worry, but sometimes it was inevitable. Some things just couldn't be shared, no matter how much it would help. Her mother hated the Triangle, and would never go back if she had the choice. Isabelle, on the other hand, had only ever known the Triangle.
It called to her, fingers of air stretching out in her dreams, trying to pull her back. One morning she'd found herself leaning on the windowsill, as though she'd been about to climb out. It scared her, and from then on had made sure the window and door were locked, and the curtains drawn before she went to bed. And still, every morning, the curtains would be open, and the window unlocked. The window was in the same direction of the Triangle, she was sure of it. And she was sure that the longer she tried to fight the Triangle's advances, the harder it would pull, until one day she'd disappear.
Removing the papers, she looked around for somewhere safe to store them. Her eyes fell on her bedside table, and she opened the top drawer and removed all the things inside. At the back there was a catch, and curious, she clicked it. The base of the drawer slipped out, revealing a hidden compartment. It was the right size for the paper, and she slipped them inside, carefully replacing all the other things that had been inside. They were safe, for now.
She rearranged her dress, and took a deep breath. It was time to face the world, and the only way she could do that was to show the world the face of Isabelle Sparrow, daughter of Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl.
*****
The cabin boy was a fast learner, and he held the sword with a sturdy grip. Jack had barely taught him more than a few simple parries, and he'd gotten the hang of them quickly. "Yer a quick learner, Slip-up. But ye must work on yer footwork. Ye can never be anything but opposite t' me, foot fer foot. Every step I take, ye must identify and follow, unless you are the offensive, then 'tis the other way 'round, savvy? We'll try this, fer starters," he finished, and stepped lightly to the right - the cabin boy followed, but he took his eyes away from Jack's.
"No! That's what ye *don't* do, Slip-up! Never look away from me, no matter what's happening behind ye, savvy?" At the boy's nod, he started again. He stepped to the right again, and the boy followed, keeping his eyes trained on Jack's. Jack nodded, slightly impressed with the kid. He had a zest for learning, and took everything in his stride - but he couldn't be let to think he was better than he actually was.
He paused for a moment - Slip-up mirrored his every movement. Jack made as though he were stepping to the left, but stopped mid-step and stepped to the right instead, bringing his sword to rest in front of Slip-up's chest. "Ye must never assume what your opponent is going to do, savvy? If this were a real battle, lad, ye'd be dead." Slip-up nodded, and replaced the sword Jack had given him in his belt. "Aye, sir, an' I take it this lesson is finished?" Jack nodded, replacing his own sword. "Aye, it is. You're a quick learner, Slip-up, it's a pleasure teachin' ye how to use a sword, but if ye practice any more today, ye will begin t' get sick of it, an' a pirate who's sick o' his sword is no good in a fight, savvy?"
Slip-up nodded, and pulled a folded piece of paper from his belt. "Aye, sir. An' here's your payment, Cap'n, for teachin' me this much." Jack took the folded piece of paper, and gestured to the door. Teaching the lad on the deck would have raised too many questions, and ridicules from the crew. For now, it was best to teach him in the cargo hold, where he wouldn't be pressured to go faster than he was able to.
Walking past the door to his cabin, Jack noticed the door was slightly ajar. He stood against the wall, and pushed the door open with his left hand, his right was already on his sword.
He peered through the gap in the door, noticing the offender still in the room, standing at the desk rummaging through loose papers. He jumped through, and held the sword towards the offender. "What ye be doin' in the Captain's quarters?" he asked, and the offender turned around. Jack almost dropped his sword, "Ducky? What ye doing away from ye kitchen?" The cook, the same cook who was in control of the cabin boy, was standing in front of Jack's desk, looking through papers.
They circled one another, until Ducky had his back to the door. He turned and ran up the stairs, Jack in close pursuit. When they both reached the deck, Ducky suddenly found himself surrounded by pirates watching in confusion. Someone, probably Will Sr., slid a sword along the deck to where it stopped at Ducky's feet.
Looking around with a furious expression on his face, he grabbed the sword and lunged at Jack, who stepped nimbly out of the way. "I can see ye ain't getting' better at fightin', Ducky. Best put that down now, an' tell me why ye were going through things on me desk." The silence of the crew was deafening. It was a cardinal sin to enter the Captain's private chambers without being invited, and one invitation wasn't open at any time.
Ducky glared around at the small crowd, and lunged at Jack again, who stepped to the side, and slapped Ducky on the backside with the blunt edge of his sword. Ducky's face changed to bright red, and he finally spoke up, "The boy was mean' t' keep ye busy fer longer, Sparrow. That were th' plan, y'see. I knew ye been teachin' 'im fancy sword handlin', so I figured I'd have enough time t' find what I been missin' - *my* papers!"
Jack looked at the man as though he were a strange variety of bug. "*Your* papers, Ducky? I don't think so - I got these papers legally, believe it or not, from a certain person who wanted to be rid o' them. Now, if they *were* your papers, then ye can't blame me fer stealin' 'em, 'cause I didn't, an' ye can't blame any member o' my crew, unless your sure of who did it. Now, are ye sure that someone in my crew stole them pepers?"
Ducky looked around, and finally brought his gaze back to level with Jacks. "No, I ain't sure. All I know is *you* have my papers, an' I want 'em back!"
Isabelle didn't say much after her outburst about the Triangle. There wasn't much she could say. She spent her evenings alone, much to the protests of Louisa, pouring over the papers she'd taken from the cavern. It was a diary of sorts, telling the story of a man called Armadaeus who fell to the triangle.
It also told who the skeletons were, but not how they came to be skeletons. 'Three days we were on the raft, looking for the same spot I'd come through. Commodore Matherson tried to tell us we were going in circles, but I, being a sailing man, did not believe him. We believed him once we circled the same island three times. Compasses don't work here, they spin like a needle extended into a windy breeze on a spider's thread.
Alexander Jefferson, the official from the King's court who I mentioned several days ago, was with us also, along with Lieutenant Jonathan Smith. We four on the raft must have looked a motley crew, bobbing around on a misty ocean with only our heads to be seen. There was no point in using the ship for this exercise - we merely needed to find the hole, not to sail through it.'
A knock on the door brought Isabelle's head away from the papers, and had her hastily stuffing them under her pillow. It probably wasn't a good idea, seeing as they were old, stained with salt, and waft thin. Very unlike the thicker paper she was used to reading from. Anamaria knocked again, "Isabelle? Are you feeling better? Will we expect you for dinner?"
Though the temptation to stay and read the papers was strong, so too was her hunger. She hadn't eaten since the outburst, three days before, and she was starving. "Aye, I'll be down, ma'ma."
Isabelle heard a soft sigh from the other side of the door, and buried her head in the pillow. She hated making her mother worry, but sometimes it was inevitable. Some things just couldn't be shared, no matter how much it would help. Her mother hated the Triangle, and would never go back if she had the choice. Isabelle, on the other hand, had only ever known the Triangle.
It called to her, fingers of air stretching out in her dreams, trying to pull her back. One morning she'd found herself leaning on the windowsill, as though she'd been about to climb out. It scared her, and from then on had made sure the window and door were locked, and the curtains drawn before she went to bed. And still, every morning, the curtains would be open, and the window unlocked. The window was in the same direction of the Triangle, she was sure of it. And she was sure that the longer she tried to fight the Triangle's advances, the harder it would pull, until one day she'd disappear.
Removing the papers, she looked around for somewhere safe to store them. Her eyes fell on her bedside table, and she opened the top drawer and removed all the things inside. At the back there was a catch, and curious, she clicked it. The base of the drawer slipped out, revealing a hidden compartment. It was the right size for the paper, and she slipped them inside, carefully replacing all the other things that had been inside. They were safe, for now.
She rearranged her dress, and took a deep breath. It was time to face the world, and the only way she could do that was to show the world the face of Isabelle Sparrow, daughter of Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl.
*****
The cabin boy was a fast learner, and he held the sword with a sturdy grip. Jack had barely taught him more than a few simple parries, and he'd gotten the hang of them quickly. "Yer a quick learner, Slip-up. But ye must work on yer footwork. Ye can never be anything but opposite t' me, foot fer foot. Every step I take, ye must identify and follow, unless you are the offensive, then 'tis the other way 'round, savvy? We'll try this, fer starters," he finished, and stepped lightly to the right - the cabin boy followed, but he took his eyes away from Jack's.
"No! That's what ye *don't* do, Slip-up! Never look away from me, no matter what's happening behind ye, savvy?" At the boy's nod, he started again. He stepped to the right again, and the boy followed, keeping his eyes trained on Jack's. Jack nodded, slightly impressed with the kid. He had a zest for learning, and took everything in his stride - but he couldn't be let to think he was better than he actually was.
He paused for a moment - Slip-up mirrored his every movement. Jack made as though he were stepping to the left, but stopped mid-step and stepped to the right instead, bringing his sword to rest in front of Slip-up's chest. "Ye must never assume what your opponent is going to do, savvy? If this were a real battle, lad, ye'd be dead." Slip-up nodded, and replaced the sword Jack had given him in his belt. "Aye, sir, an' I take it this lesson is finished?" Jack nodded, replacing his own sword. "Aye, it is. You're a quick learner, Slip-up, it's a pleasure teachin' ye how to use a sword, but if ye practice any more today, ye will begin t' get sick of it, an' a pirate who's sick o' his sword is no good in a fight, savvy?"
Slip-up nodded, and pulled a folded piece of paper from his belt. "Aye, sir. An' here's your payment, Cap'n, for teachin' me this much." Jack took the folded piece of paper, and gestured to the door. Teaching the lad on the deck would have raised too many questions, and ridicules from the crew. For now, it was best to teach him in the cargo hold, where he wouldn't be pressured to go faster than he was able to.
Walking past the door to his cabin, Jack noticed the door was slightly ajar. He stood against the wall, and pushed the door open with his left hand, his right was already on his sword.
He peered through the gap in the door, noticing the offender still in the room, standing at the desk rummaging through loose papers. He jumped through, and held the sword towards the offender. "What ye be doin' in the Captain's quarters?" he asked, and the offender turned around. Jack almost dropped his sword, "Ducky? What ye doing away from ye kitchen?" The cook, the same cook who was in control of the cabin boy, was standing in front of Jack's desk, looking through papers.
They circled one another, until Ducky had his back to the door. He turned and ran up the stairs, Jack in close pursuit. When they both reached the deck, Ducky suddenly found himself surrounded by pirates watching in confusion. Someone, probably Will Sr., slid a sword along the deck to where it stopped at Ducky's feet.
Looking around with a furious expression on his face, he grabbed the sword and lunged at Jack, who stepped nimbly out of the way. "I can see ye ain't getting' better at fightin', Ducky. Best put that down now, an' tell me why ye were going through things on me desk." The silence of the crew was deafening. It was a cardinal sin to enter the Captain's private chambers without being invited, and one invitation wasn't open at any time.
Ducky glared around at the small crowd, and lunged at Jack again, who stepped to the side, and slapped Ducky on the backside with the blunt edge of his sword. Ducky's face changed to bright red, and he finally spoke up, "The boy was mean' t' keep ye busy fer longer, Sparrow. That were th' plan, y'see. I knew ye been teachin' 'im fancy sword handlin', so I figured I'd have enough time t' find what I been missin' - *my* papers!"
Jack looked at the man as though he were a strange variety of bug. "*Your* papers, Ducky? I don't think so - I got these papers legally, believe it or not, from a certain person who wanted to be rid o' them. Now, if they *were* your papers, then ye can't blame me fer stealin' 'em, 'cause I didn't, an' ye can't blame any member o' my crew, unless your sure of who did it. Now, are ye sure that someone in my crew stole them pepers?"
Ducky looked around, and finally brought his gaze back to level with Jacks. "No, I ain't sure. All I know is *you* have my papers, an' I want 'em back!"
