NOTE: Well, here's chapter six. Sorry for the delay, you know how college can get (and if you don't…you will).
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Ambrosia of the Sea
Chapter 6
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"Feast yer eyes on the Island of the Dead."
Elinor did not blink for a moment longer than most. What lay before her was one of the most beautiful and exotic pieces of land she had ever seen.
"It's…amazing."
Next to her, the captain "mm hmm"-ed in agreement. He had waited years for this moment—ever since he and the crew had first learned of the treasure. Elinor blinked, turning to meet his glazed, dilated, and bloodshot eyes. Out of his peripheral vision, Barbossa saw her strong jaw rotate toward him. Quickly he cleared his throat and blinked back his hunger, his anticipation. He clenched his fists; they couldn't reach that island fast enough for him. And yet he had been waiting for so long…what were a few more leagues?
"What on this isle calls to you?" Barbossa looked at the woman next to him—a woman who now seemed almost child-like in her curiosity, in her naivety.
"My retirement," he answered nonchalantly. North smiled beside him.
"I might believe you if I didn't know who or what you were, Captain. But since I do…why don't you tell me what treasure awaits you on this island?" Barbossa took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Elinor saw his shoulders fall, his posture relax. Despite his overall appearance, she caught that child-like excitement that sparkled in his icy eyes as he opened them and gazed out over the Caribbean.
"Aztec gold." He didn't see it, but her silence told him she was certainly surprised.
"The cursed chest of Cortez?" she asked as if out of breath. Barbossa snorted.
"So they say…" Elinor looked back to the island—at once it turned from a beautiful sight to an ominous one. The trees swayed back and forth with the wind in their own tribal dance. The once cloudless sky was slowly beginning to fill with large cumulous clouds with white tops and ever-darkening bottoms. The waves crashed against the cliffs to the east of the island as the sun disappeared behind the billows.
Elinor shivered.
"You can't be serious," she hissed, turning toward the captain. He looked down at her; his lips pressed tightly together, his brows furrowed deep over his eyes.
And then he smiled. A horrible, evil grin that exposed his unpleasant teeth. As soon as North's gaze shifted to his darkened incisors, he snapped his head around and addressed his crew.
"Drop anchor, gents! And make ready the longboats!" Elinor stepped back from the captain, her heart fluttering. She was fixing to make a break for it—escape to his quarters, to the brig…anywhere but to be dragged to that forbidden isle. When her feet responded, Barbossa took hold of her wrist with lightning quick reaction.
"I'll not be going ashore!" she shouted, trying to break free. The man just smiled, pulling her close to him. Elinor was shaking now, not understanding why this pirate was not as superstitious as most, why he was risking the life of his crew and himself for something that supposedly didn't even exist.
"Oh, yeh most definitely will be accompanyin' us, meh dear," he threatened against her ear. North bit her lip as she was thrown to Ragetti, who dragged her to one of the boats and threw her in. She cowered in the front of the vessel like a scared canine, or a child watching her parents fight, as if she was sure there was a monster after her.
He stepped in behind her, standing over her as the boat was lowered into the cool, dark waters of the ocean.
Elinor sank deeper into the fetal position as they rowed toward the only stretch of sand worth beaching on. She could feel his presence behind her, his eyes upon her. Their boat was ahead of the rest, leading a regiment into battle, or the first of a long funeral procession.
When they were settled onto land, North wrapped her arms around her knees and cursed everything in sight, refusing to remove herself from the boat. Barbossa had a different plan in mind, however, as he grabbed her arm and hoisted her clear out of the craft. Elinor stumbled around the beach, still attached to the captain but trying desperately to get away. After a hard slap, however, she gave up her fight, stunned and defeated.
"You bastard," she cursed, holding her stinging cheek, "do you hit Maria like that?" Barbossa stopped and raised his hand again, but thought better of following through. Instead he glowered at the woman and pointed a finger at her.
"Watch it, North."
"Why? We're all just going to DIE ANYWAY!" she shouted so the whole crew could hear. They all looked at her curiously as the captain uncovered his pistol and rested it against her temple.
"I'm warning you, lass."
As if that wasn't obvious, she wanted to say, but knew that she would be without her life if she did. Instead she bit her tongue to keep from retorting, and once her silence had gone on long enough to mollify the captain's rancor, he released her body—but not her wrist—from his grasp.
"Murtogg! Get yer sorry ass over hear…and bring that compass with yeh!" Murtogg was a tall dark man, with horrible long hair and an even worse set of teeth. He sulked over to the captain, glaring at Elinor while pulling out a small compass.
"Which way, sir?" he growled.
"Northwest. We need to hit the center of the island in order teh find the temple."
"Aye, that way then," Murtogg replied, motioning for the rest of the crew to follow.
No shovels or pick axes—no buried treasure. Not even a map to go by. The only things the crew carried were two twelve-foot long wooden boards and a few chains. Not to mention every weapon they could fit inside their pants.
The trees seemed to close in around them as they entered the jungle, as it seemed. Elinor stumbled over rocks and tree roots as Barbossa dragged her deeper into the center of the island.
"What's our headin'?" he shouted over his shoulder ten minutes later as the wind crashed through the trees. North felt a drop of rain.
"Still northwest, sir. We should be comin' up on her soon enough," Murtogg yelled back.
A few steps further and Barbossa had to draw his sword to cut a path for them through the foliage. Elinor looked up to catch a glimpse of lightning shoot over the tops of the trees. She then tripped over a large root and fell into the unmoving captain.
"Watch yer step," he said, pushing her away from him. He spoke with a cautionary tone, rather than a menacing one, like a father taking his children out for a picnic in the woods on his day off. She looked at him curiously as he trudged on, slashing his way through the mess of plant life. Every ten minutes or so he would re-affirm their position. It seemed almost an hour when North dodged a large branch and Barbossa lacerated the last bit of remaining forest. As he did, a mountain appeared before them. Elinor gasped as they stepped into the clearing; it wasn't a mountain.
It was a temple.
"Saints preserve us," she whispered as the rest of the Pearl's crew filed in behind her and the captain. Before them stood an elaborate temple adorned with the writings and pictures of the Aztecs—pictures of war, conquest, and death, and writings sure to be words of warning. There was an opening at the center of the bottom of the pyramid, and inside the first of at least two hundred steps could be seen.
But this was not a temple erected by the Aztec peoples.
"It's a sham, sir. Built by the Spanish to house the treasure."
"And teh ridicule the people of Mexico," he said harshly. "Fools." The crew threw him questioning looks. "Draw yer weapons, mates. And watch yer heads."
The phony temple—with it's ladder on the inside rather than out—held nothing but those steps and a small platform at the very top: a platform that held a large chest. Lightning lit up the trunk through a square hole at the top of the pyramid. When the pirates caught sight of it, they started to get anxious. Two gangly-looking men bolted up the steps, ignoring the shouts of Barbossa to stay where they were. He let go of North, who folded her arms across her chest and watched the men, one a few steps of the other.
"It's no use, Captain," came a voice from the crowd who then stood fixated on the men. Barbossa squinted, watching them carefully. As the man in the lead reached the seventh step from the top, a spear flew out of the east wall. Every member of the crew leaned forward as the weapon struck the man just above his navel with such a force as to carry him clear off the path and into the opposite wall, tearing completely through him before disappearing through a hole in the stone.
"Idiot," Elinor said loudly as the man fell hard into the ground, breaking every bone in his body. Barbossa was too busy concentrating on the dead man's companion to notice her remark. The pirate stood frozen as he wet his trousers, his pant leg darkening with every sharp breath he took. The woman stifled a laugh.
The silence was deafening as they waited for his next move. No one knew if the spear would emerge again, though they believed it was possible—nor did they know if that was the only path it took. The frightened pirate took a step down, his body shaking uncontrollably as lightning lit up the area again. The clash of thunder that followed terrified the man so much that he fell forward, his foot lightly grazing the step below him before another spear shot out of the wall and tore through his neck, decapitating him as he fell back down to the crew's feet.
Barbossa held out a foot to stop his rolling head.
A few of the men turned away to hold onto the contents of their stomachs. Elinor stepped forward, scrutinizing the man's wide eyes and gaping mouth.
"Poor chap," she said light-heartedly. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get your treasure, Captain." Barbossa acted quick, throwing her into three of his crewmembers who held her tight.
"Outside! Take the largest stones yeh women can carry." The pirates filed out into the storm and within a span of ten minutes were back, each holding on to his stone, each with a worried look upon their faces. They looked to their captain, awaiting orders.
"Well, up the steps yeh blunderin' idiots!"
"But sir, how will rocks protect us?" came the question on everyone's mind. Barbossa rolled his eyes.
"Use it as a shield," he said slowly, as if teaching them the correct way to butter bread, or set the table. When they didn't move, he pulled out his pistol and fired a shot into the ceiling. The men jumped and walked tentatively to the base of the stairway.
"To heaven, gents," Barbossa soothed. "Yeh'll be fine, just fine." Obviously he was skeptical about the whole idea, he himself staying behind along with the three men who held Elinor and a few other cowards.
"What do yeh think?" asked a voice into the woman's ear. She looked over her shoulder and saw Bootstrap Bill holding onto her arm. Turning back, she smiled.
"I think this is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas," she answered.
"I agree," he whispered back. Both looked to the captain, who had his arms folded and his eyes upon the crew. When the first man reached the seventh step from the top, the release of air was heard a split second before another spear was released. He was not quick enough, and so suffered the same fate as his fellow men.
"Listen fer the air! The AIR!" Barbossa shouted. Another step, and another shot of air. This time the leaders held their stones against their chests, bracing themselves for impact. One did not hold fast, and fell backward and down to the earth. The remaining few jumped to the next step to allow those behind to follow before the release of another weapon. This process continued until the first five reached the top. No spears were hurled there. They shouted to the other men to lower the boards and bring up the chains.
"That's it, gents. That's it!" Barbossa encouraged from his spot on the ground, surprised that his plan had worked. Now that the pirates knew what was coming, they made a line on the outer edge of the steps, holding up their stones and knocking away any oncoming spears as the five men pushed the large chest onto the board and wrapped a set of chains around the front to keep it from falling. Slowly they made their way down the stairway, sliding the trunk down the boards. When they had reached the end of the second plank a few men from the top grabbed the first and laid it down below to continue the line.
Elinor's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets; Jesus Christ, it's working, she thought. Looking to Barbossa, she thought he looked like a young child at Christmas. His eyes held a new light similar to the one he expressed that night in his washroom—the sight of lust. He stepped forward, hands slightly outstretched. As the men made their way down, those covering them also moved out of harm's way.
"Well done, mates. Well done indeed," he congratulated, clasping them on the back as they threw down their stones and continued the path out into the clearing. The rain poured onto the pirates' backs, soaking their mangled clothing and dampening their trail. Lightning split the sky over their heads as they pulled the chest across the planks and entered the trees.
"It worked. I can't believe it bloody worked," Elinor said to herself as she was led out behind them.
"Not as dumb as I look then, eh?" came Barbossa's voice from over her shoulder.
"Close to it," she snapped back. "Who knows what sort of curse has been placed on the chest itself. That was just a booby trap!" He walked up to her and clasped his hand over her mouth to stifle her shouting.
"Ignore her, gents. The treasure's ours!" Cheering was heard as the trunk made its way through the forest and—several hours later—onto the beach.
It took eight men to load it into the nearest longboat. A few of those placed their hands on top of the elaborately carved trunk, ready to open it then and there.
"No. Not until she be safe aboard the Pearl," the captain said, pushing their hands off the lid. They nodded and stepped into the boat. The only reason for the vessels was to keep the chest afloat—everything else was soaked. Elinor sat in the middle of the one she had come in, a much more relaxed—if not entirely disappointed—posture settling into her body. William sat next to her as a few others filed in. Barbossa was the last to enter—making sure that the boat that held the treasure was safely pushed off.
As they rowed back to the ship, the storm followed them, a dark fog trailing behind.
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