thanks for the lovely reviews! here's a nice long chappie for ya, and more eriky goodness than previously. this chapter contains mainly backstroy and information vital to the story, but hey, erik's in it! please review.
oh one more thing, i probably won't update for another week cause i need to work on my other fanfic a bit and my story on fictionpress. and school started.
disclaimer: i own nothing, its all in my mind. grins wickedly the phantom of the caribbean is there, inside my mind. sigh jack sparrow and erik in one!
Chapter Two
The crowds of the wharf market was already crowded with the masses of women going about in their morning shopping, venders selling their wares, children playing in the street. Sailors were tending to the ships, loading goods from England, India and France. The smell of fish and salt was thick and heavy on the air. Voices were carried here and there by the winds of the sea, adding to the jumble of sounds that characterized the market.
So crowded it was, that Christine had already been elbowed twice, nearly tripped on a running child and had an amorous swat place on her behind. Still, Christine loved the market. She loved seeing the same friendly vendors she knew by name (in Port Royal, everyone knew everybody) the same women she saw here. And she didn't mind the smell. It was the smell of the sea, the smell of adventure. The only bad thing about was that it tantalized Christine with what she couldn't have: adventures in the Spanish Main.
She haggled a bit with old Emile, a one eyed fish vendor who lost his right leg to the infamous Phantom of the Caribbean. Or so he claimed. He never did say what he looked like.
Having reached a price that was decent enough for both of them, Christine headed for the east dock. Hopefully Piangi wouldn't be too busy. Christine had quickly taken a liking to the old, corpulent sailor. She had met him first on the crossing from England and he had been the only sailor who would tell Carlotta off for picking on Christine. They had both quickly taken a liking to each other, sharing secrets and providing company for each other on the long journey. He stayed in Port Royal for five years before he had to go off in another crew, but in those five years, he had been her greatest teacher. After she confessed to him her yearning for the sea and adventure, he had given her some old boy's clothes and taught her everything he knew about the sea. She was a quick learner and soon matched him in knowledge of sailing. The only thing she lacked was experience. He even told her that he might someday take her aboard a crew, if he could convince whoever was in charge to allow a woman on board.
Piangi also told the greatest stories. When he wasn't teaching her the ropes of sailing, he would spin wonderful yarns about pirates and savages in the remote islands, even a tale of a sea monster or two. Piangi was known for telling stories and seemed to always have a little crowd of children listening with wide eyes and hanging mouths, clinging on to his every word.
Today was no exception. There he was, in his navy pants, black boots and grey shirt, sitting on a barrel and smoking a cork pipe. There were eight children sitting on the wooden dock at his feet. Christine smiled as she remembered that she used to one of them, dirty and eager for his tales. She still was, except for the dirty part.
"And then, the great monster from the deep lashed his tentacles 'round the ship, crushing it till the boards started a creaking. If it warn't for good old Billy Hardcastle and his harpoon, well, I wouldn't be a telling ye this tale."
The children shuddered as they imagined the giant squid. Christine knew this tale well. It was on of the first he had told her, on that journey from England. She sat her self on a crate near Piangi's audience and waited patiently for her time alone with. He noticed her sitting, for he smiled and said, "Christine lass, lovely to see ye again. Well, ye know all my stories, why don't ye tell me which one to tell next." He didn't need to ask; Piangi knew her favorite story but she would humor him.
"Tell us about the Phantom of the Caribbean."
The children shuddered at this. Although most of them hadn't heard Piangi tell the story, they grew up in fear of the Sea Ghost, as he was also called. Mothers always told their naught children that the Sea Ghost would get him if they didn't behave.
Piangi smiled in a way that only the old and wise can. "Ah, yes now there is a fine story. Very well, lass, ye will have your story.
"No one knows where the Phantom of the Caribbean comes from. Not many have seen him either. Those that have seen him or even spoken with him don't live very long to tell the tale. Those few that have, all say that he's tall, taller than any man you've ever seen. And his eyes are the eyes of the very devil. Great, piercing amber eyes that shone in the dark. No one can hide from those eyes. There are two other ways to identify him. First, he wears on the right side of his face, but so do a lot of people so that's not very much help. But he has a tattoo on his right arm that no one else in the world has, a red skull, with two black eyes, the very image of his unmasked face." The children shuddered and clung to one another at this.
"Now, he's been a preying on ships and towns for nearly twenty years, but in the last ten years, it's gotten worse. It's no longer safe for humble merchant vessels to go out unarmed. As for the towns, its far more dangerous for them. He comes in the dark and attacks without warning, leaving no survivors. He and his crew come and they take what they want and then leave as swiftly as they come." Christine leaned closer to the storyteller, holding the little girl that had climbed into her lap. She loved the terror of this tale, of the intriguing Sea Ghost. No matter how dangerous Piangi made him out to be, she longed to meet him. He seemed so dark and erotic, one who could sweep any woman off her feet.
"As for the ship itself, well, there's a nasty piece of work. Fastest ship in the Caribbean, the Black Pearl is. No ship can catch it or out run it. Once the Sea Ghost sets his eyes on ye, there is no hope for ye. Even though its black sails are tattered and ragged, the whole of the king's navy could never catch that ship."
"Have you ever seen the Black Pearl, Mr. Piangi?" a young lad called Michael asked.
"Once or twice, I've spied it. Gave me the shudders it did. Just seeing it makes ones blood run cold. Isn't that right, lassie," Piangi said, nodding towards Christine.
"You've seen the Pearl?"
"Where?"
"Did the pirates chase ya?"
"Did you see the Sea Ghost?"
The onslaught of questions grew from the children, all almost as curious as her. Christine crossly glared at Piangi for making her tale her tale. While she could sing every pirate and sailor ditty there was, she was no storyteller. And Piangi knew this.
Sighing, Christine resigned herself to her fate. "Yes, I saw the Pearl when I first came over from England. We were in the middle of the ocean, with the fog all around us. I was alone on the top deck and I saw a ship with ragged black sails and a pirate flag, vanishing into the fog. And, well…that's all."
The children looked very disappointed. Christine suspected they were expecting a sweeping epic with the two ships engaging in a bloody battle and the Sea Ghost himself swinging aboard and taking her prisoner. Well, if any pirate, including the infamous Phantom of the Caribbean, tried to take her prisoner, he would be sore for a week. Or end up missing a few limbs. She had learned swordplay from Will and was just as good as her cousin.
"Well, I think ye kids should be a heading home. Near time for dinner judging by the sun," Piangi said, shooing the children away. They scampered off; already the twins Felicity and Jacob were pushing each other. Christine suspected that they would come home with quite a few mud stains.
When the children had left the dock, Christine turned to Piangi and gave him a huge hug, breathing him his scent of salt and rope. She felt him chuckle his deep bellied laugh as he returned the hug. "Well, I take it that you have missed me lass."
She broke contact from him and looked up at him, smiling at the man who was the closest thing she ever had to a father. "I wanted to come as soon as I heard your ship had come back into Port, but Mrs. Hobbes had a baby and Aunt Margaret needed me to help."
"Eh, its alright lass. No need to make excuses, I know very well you've been running around with the Admiral's brother," he said giving her a wink.
Christine felt a blush creeping on to her cheeks. "Piangi, that's not true. I mean, its true that Captain de Changy has been pursuing me, but I do NOT like him. I've tried to tell him that and he just won't listen. I don't think he believes a woman would ever tell him no."
"Well, that boy's head is rather inflated," Piangi chuckled. However, he grew serious and took on a fatherly demeanor as he saw Christine sigh and sit back down, head in her hands. "What is it lass?"
Christine looked at him with wide, sad eyes. "I just wish things could go back to the way they were when we were children," she confessed. She forgot how talking to Piangi felt. She could pour her soul out to him. "We used to be friends, both getting into mischief together with Will and Meg. We were equals then and he respected me and my intelligence, but now things are different. He thinks I'm an stupid little girl who doesn't know anything and that he's the only one who can take care of me. As if I need to be taken care of! But the truth is, I don't know if anything I do is right. I used to be confident but now I find myself unsure and actually kind of scared. It's like I've realized how truly small I am compared to the world. And its not only that; I've been so restless lately. I want to go out and experience things instead of hearing about them in a story. But I can't because I'm a girl. It's just so frustrating! And it's not fair!"
Piangi sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. "From what ye be telling me lass, its looks like you've got one of the worst cases I've ever seen."
"Of what," Christine inquired, puzzled.
"Of growing up," he replied, smiling gently. "What you're going through is natural for all sixteen year old girls."
"How do you know? You never were a sixteen year old girl," Christine pointed out.
"True, but I do have a grown daughter who was once sixteen."
A sailor from Piangi's crew called out to him, telling him to stop dawdling and come help with the cargo. The pair said their adieus and Christine headed back home with the fish.
She never noticed the dark shadow trailing her.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Erik "docked" his boat with as much dignity he could muster, considering the boat had sunk to the bottom of the bay and only the top of the mast was sticking out.
Sauntering off in search of a good inn wish some good food and other, entertainment, Erik was most annoyed when he was halted by some ponce in a powder wig and a fan boy trailing after him.
"Hold up there you. It's a shilling to tie up your boat." Bloody hell, he even sounded like a ponce! Erik raised his visible eyebrow when he said "tie up". Is that what he called tying up a boat?
Nevertheless, Erik fished in his pocket for a shilling, but froze when the man said he needed to know his name. Even though no one knew his infamous alter-ego, the name Erik Destler was still among the most wanted pirates in the Spanish Main.
Pulling out three shillings, Erik said, "Why don't we make it three shillings, and we'll forget the name."
The man looked incredulously for a moment, then back at the three shillings placed on his book. A greedy gleam shone on the ponce's eyes. "Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith."
Erik nodded and went on his way, snatching the leather purse on the ponce's desk.
Mr. Smith has a nice ring to it. Need a first name though. Oh, Angel will do nicely. Lower the suspicion among these holier than thou types.
Erik cockily strutted through the wharf market of Port Royal. Such a busy place, and attentions seemed fall prey to the wares of the vendors.
Quite a few people seemed to be losing their purses today.
They were all wholesome, ordinary, boring folk with no sense of adventure. Even the sailors lacked the spirit that was found in pirates. It was just a dull rock full of over dressed soldiers and dull townspeople.
Hold on just a minute.
From the corner of his eye, Erik spied possibly the loveliest sight he had ever seen. She couldn't be more than sixteen, a young girl blossoming into womanhood her face was a fine, porcelain beauty with deep brown doe eyes. But it wasn't her beauty, or how well her green dress fit her, that caught Erik's eye.
It was the wildness he saw in her. It seemed to him that there was a tiger underneath that demure shell. Her walk was full of energy, yet seemed uncomfortable with the land. Once or twice he caught her gazing longingly out to the sea. Even her hair, a wild mass of chocolate curls that shone with a red tint, seemed to be straining to be free from its confining ribbon. In short, she looked trapped in a lifestyle that didn't suit her. The makings of a pirate.
There was also something very familiar about her, but Erik couldn't put his finger on it.
Erik tailed the girl down to a dock where a ship was unloading. He hid behind a large stack of crates as he watched her walk over to a fat sailor telling some sort of story to a group of children. She sat down, listening to the man's tale. Erik had to admit it; the fat sailor was a fine storyteller. And he also apparently held favor with the girl for she smiled at him in a more than friendly manor. Oh to hold favor with such a lass! While he preferred a woman with a more ample bosom, more curves to her, this lass would definitely bring pleasure.
"Tell us about the Phantom of the Caribbean."
That caught Erik's attention and brought his mind out of his fantasies. Odd, it was the girl that suggested the story. He listened as the old sailor told his tale. It was amusing really. He his version of the story was the closest to the truth he had ever heard. He was amused by the children's awed faces, mouths hanging, and eyes wide. Even the young woman appeared fascinated, but Erik suspected she had heard the story before.
What was most interesting was learning that the girl had seen the Pearl. Erik's ears were keenly listening now. Maybe he could learn something important from her.
But alas, his hopes were in vain. The girl had merely caught a glimpse of the Pearl, if that was what she had truly seen.
Soon, the children left and the girl, Christine the old sailor had called her, was alone with the man. Apparently they weren't intimately connected, a fact that filled Erik with a happiness he couldn't explain. Although learning of a titled boy she had chasing after her filled him with a seething anger. This lass was a free spirit, not some rich boy's plaything.
Bloody hell! He hadn't even met the bloody girl and she had already charmed him with her inner fire and wild beauty. Brilliant Erik! You learned you lesson from Luciana about such beauty! You're a fool! That annoying voice in his head was gnawing at him. It was annoying because it spoke the truth. But he ignored it. He had to speak with this girl, especially after hearing her confessions to the sailor, her longing for adventure. Her longing for the sea. There were few birds like her, and like when hearing of a diamond, one took advantage.
He trailed his beautiful pirate lass (which is how he thought of her) to wherever her destination was, a plan already formulating in his mind.