Disclaimer: If Pirates of the Caribbean stuff is P, Delphein's stuff is D, and this story is S, then S minus P equals D. Wasn't that easy?
Chapter 9: To Rome
Jack was beginning to seriously dislike the map room. For the third time in less than a week, and for the second time in the same afternoon, he found himself conferring at the table over matters he would really prefer ignoring anyway.
He narrowed his eyes in an appropriately menacing way at the two men sitting across from him, both dressed in simple tunics. He at least felt admittedly better to have them in his custody- er, as his guests, that is- while Murphy and Anamaria kept an uneasy watch on the rest of the fleet. At least if any of the others tried anything, Jack could barter for peace with their commander's life.
"Fine," he said flatly as he came to another dead-end with his inquiries into where they had come from. "Let's start with this, then: what makes ye think I've got something ye want, mates?"
He at least thanked his stars that men had picked up some English along their way. His Latin was only so-so, considering he'd learned so long ago and didn't practice the skill much.
What little information he had actually gleaned from the menso far indicated they'd been around for quite a bit longer than just the few months or so of Anamaria's tales of sightings.
"Dux," answered the younger-looking one. Rufus,Jack thought it was; if he remembered the names correctly.
Jack frowned. "A commander?" he translated. So much for them speaking English.
"No. Guide. The Dux," the younger man corrected.
Ah.
"Ye've got a guide?" Now they were getting somewhere. Jack waved a hand fleetingly and cocked his head. "A guide that led ye to the Black Pearl." At their confirmation, he went on, with a purposefully baiting skepticism, "And I'm to believe this?"
The older man, probably around Jack's age, shifted in his seat. He hadn't spoken more than a few words to introduce himself as Gaius Acerbus (GUY-us a-CARE-bis), allowing the subordinate Rufus to stumble through with his vague, misleading explanations.
"Captain," Gaius began carefully. "We are looking for the Lux. He did not understand. There was a wrong to right, but he did not. There are now many wrongs to right. We need the Lux."
"Forget the Lux for a moment," Jack said, wondering idly if it would be bad form to break out a bottle of rum at this point. "About this Dux…"
Gaius hesitated, as though debating how much he should reveal. "It guides us. Sometimes it leads, and sometimes it helps us to lead ourselves."
Jack's eyes narrowed again. Sounded like his own dratted compass. He sighed heavily at the circuitous explanation and tried a different angle. "And what is the Lux?"
"Not what. Who. He is on your ship," Rufus answered quickly.
"Aye, we've touched on that," Jack said dryly. "Who is he, then?"
"The Lux brings light and fortune into the world."
"And ye think this Lux chap is here, on the Pearl, not doing 'is job, is that it?"
Both men simply stared back, not responding.
Jack wished again for some rum. Instead, he leaned forward and tried again, "So we're left with the claim that ye want to take a man off me ship without telling me why ye need 'im or where ye're going, all without any proof."
"The Dux," Gaius said solicitously.
Dux and Lux again. Jack frowned. Sounded like ridiculous night-time story for small children.
But the Roman commander didn't leave it at that. Reaching within a fold of his tunic, he produced a small, square, carved wooden box with a simple latch at the front. Flipping it open, he set it on the table and scooted it forward for Jack to see.
It was a compass. Jack nearly leapt to his feet in surprise, but instead, grabbing up the compass for a closer look, he leaned forward.
The tone of his voice when he spoke was clear: he understood now what it was they wanted, but would not give it up unless and until he was given what he wanted.
"Tell me why you need this Lux of yours," he said. It was not a question. Nor was it quite a demand. It was a suggestion as to what they might do if they were wise. The way that he idly fingered the gun tucked into his sash was a suggestion as well, as to what he might do if they weren't wise.
Apparently, the Romans were either appropriately intimidated or were encouraged by the chance that they might get what they had come for after all. At a curt nod of permission from Gaius, Rufus spoke up.
"The Lux has the ability to… cause things, impossible things, to happen. We need him to ensure our final victory against our enemies. If we do not have the Lux, they will find our fortune and rule. We cannot allow this."
Jack flipped the compass, their "Dux," shut and slid it back across the table towards them. For a long moment he stared at the two men, his dark eyes searching them for answers to questions he didn't voice aloud. Then, finally, he leaned back and kicked his feet up onto the table, and almost carelessly, he informed them, "The man ye're looking for is dead. It's a woman that ye want."
"I'm not sure how he meant it." Elizabeth fidgeted with the baby's blankets, rearranging them around his small, sleeping form. "It could have been a warning, I suppose, or perhaps he was trying to tell me something else. But we can't pretend that no one knows anymore, Will."
Will ran his hands through his hair. "I know," he said, heaving a sigh. "I know."
He met his wife's eyes. And there it was. Yes, between the two of them, they knew all right.
They couldn't just sever their connections with the scoundrels and dogs they called their friends. And that was where the problem lay. If only they could heed the Commodore's advice, put an end to their shady dealings with bandits, and clean up their name and reputation... But that just couldn't be done.
And whether the words the man had spoken had been official warnings from Commodore Norrington or personal words of advice from James Norrington wasn't really even all that important. The fact that he had faced up to them at all was a sort of ultimatum in itself. Straighten up and fly right or he would be forced to act…
"Let's go to Rome, Elizabeth." Rome was where Jack had claimed he and the Pearl were going, wasn't it?
Elizabeth only stared at her husband.
He didn't wait for her to respond, but went on, "Why do we bother with this? You, with this house, and I with the forge, sitting about and going mad day by day."
He gathered Elizabeth into his arms. "I know you," he said quietly into her hair as he leaned his head against hers. "You've too much spirit to watch your life drift by like this."
"You've got the forge," Elizabeth repeated weakly, totally at a loss of how to confront Will's sudden urgency.
"This isn't what you want, is it?" Will said, not about to allow himself to be deterred. "You thought it was, but you still dream about that great adventure we had."
She leaned back and looked up at him, agape.
"You talk in your sleep, dear," he said.
"I do not!" she insisted petulantly.
"You do," he said with a grin. "Sometimes." Then, without even pausing for breath, he leapt right back to his former pleas, "Let's go. There's a whole world we're missing."
Elizabeth turned again to regard their son. "We've got him to think of now."
"He's got pirate in his blood," Will said with a grin. "It will be good for him." Privately, he wondered what his life would have been like if he himself had been raised with his father, out at sea.
Elizabeth merely continued staring at young Billy.The babywas supposed to have grounded them, given them both something to live and care for. For two long years, she and Will had fought this very battle that Will was apparently now ready to give in to. Eager for adventure, but held back by society and propriety, they had intentionally done their best to avoid pregnancy. They had feigned disappointment at their lack of children even as they waited anxiously for some sign or opportunity to come by them.
Finally, they had given in to their sedentary lives. They had started a family. With a family to care for, they wouldn't be able to brook this argument anymore. Billy was to bond them to the land. Their holiday on the Black Pearl as they awaited his birth was to be their last foray into the world of salted sea and vaulted ventures.
Elizabeth hugged Will to her, pressing her face into his neck. "Will…" she whispered uncertainly.
He squeezed her around her shoulders, then stepped away from her toward the baby, who had awakened.
Elizabeth watched as Will bent over the figure of their tiny son. In a light-hearted tone that belied the seriousness of what he was suggesting they do, he observed aloud to the infant, "You can become a good man without living a dull life. How about we show you a life worth living, eh, Billy?"
Gwen had entered the map room warily when she was called, her eyes on the two strangers. When one of them had surreptitiously flipped open a small, squarish box, and then looked up at her, it hadn't been lost on her. She had glanced quickly to Jack, but he hadn't been surprised at all. He had only met her eyes for a moment, then turned back to the Romans.
"This is the granddaughter and only living heir," he had told them, "of your Lux, William Jacobs."
He had then had Gwen pull out his compass, which she still had. In her hand, it pointed them eastward. But what had astounded Gwen most was when Jack motioned for the men to pass their compass to her. She was shocked to see that it too pointed to herself before she touched it. Then, it spun round to point out the same direction as Jack's.
The older of the two men had then said, in oddly accented, slowly spoken English, "It guides us to you, our Lux. And now you guide us into battle."
It had then been decided that the convoy of Roman ships and the three pirate vessels would sail together across the Atlantic and into the Mediterranean Sea. Jack felt confident enough with the arrangement, especially considering that he had control over what they claimed to want and need the most: Gwen. Furthermore, the Roman commander and his second-hand agreed to remain, though certainly not without many initial arguments, aboard the Pearl as insurance against any double-crossing.
Now, though, Gwen was more confused than ever.
It was night now. Jack had gone below decks to see their guests safely settled quite a while ago. No doubt he was also seeing to it that his men discreetly kept guard of them.
In his absence, Gwen was trying to puzzle out the situation she found herself in. According to what Jack had told her before he left her alone in the cabin an hour or two ago, her grandfather had apparently been entrusted with some unknown significant mission some time ago. He had failed to do it, apparently going mad with greed when he realized the nature of his gift, which had also been pointed out to him at the time. His failure had allowed matters to worsen to the point that an entire convoy had now been sent out to look for him, to drag him back themselves.
Which left her to trouble through several questions. First of all, what was this gift that she had inherited from him? And secondly, why were there… she certainly thought she would never find herself asking these questions… why were armies and fleets of men and ships returning inexplicably from centuries past to shepherd her halfway across the world for the sake of some unnamable goal? And what was this goal that she was supposed to accomplish? What about the battle they spoke of?
The door suddenly swung open, and Jack tramped in, doffing his hat as he shut the door behind him. He sighed heavily as he set his beloved old tricorne down beside the meal tray on his desk and reached automatically for his mug of rum as he flopped down into his chair.
Gwen suddenly realized, somewhat guiltily, that she'd eaten the lion's share of the food, leaving him with only a single chicken leg and a couple pieces of bread. She silently set down the apple she'd been munching on, leaving the last half of it for him.
"When ye first showed up on the Pearl, I thought ye would be a damned inconvenience," Jack said with a wry grin after a moment.
"And I thought you were more like a wild animal, with a mane to boot," Gwen rejoined, sitting down on his lap as she handed him the remaining chicken leg, silently hoping he wouldn't examine the meal tray too closely and discover the few remaining scraps of food.
Jack bit into the meat, then around his mouthful, he said, "I was right about ye."
"I was right about you," Gwen said, unfazed.
"I decided I like inconveniences sometimes."
"I like your mane."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment before she said simply, "To Rome."
"Aye, to Rome… Were ye hungry, lass?"