Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Philip Larkin, it means a morning song.
Chapter 22: Aubade
"He wouldn't say, but when I attempted to question him about it he became very irate. At this point he had been isolated for quite some time, and the effects of it were beginning to show. He was very desperate to get out of jail, and told me that if I freed him I would find myself among those who never hungered for food nor thirsted for drink."
"He was going to curse you," Jack pointed out.
"Precisely. I agreed, letting my curiosity get the best of me. I was most interested in this man's behavior. He all of a sudden became extremely calm. So calm, I would venture to say that for a moment I felt as if by some grave error he'd been mistakenly locked up. He and I were conversing as two gentlemen do, and if it wasn't for the glance he stole at my sword I should say I would have fallen right into his trap."
"Right, this is all very intriguing," Jack interrupted impatiently. "But what exactly does this have to do with the Dowry? Or the crutch?"
Norrington ignored Jack's remark completely. "I managed to back away just in time for him to lunge at me through the bars. As his arm shot out towards me, I caught a glimpse of skull with a serpent just above his elbow."
"He had The Mark?" Camille and Ana exclaimed, not exactly at the same time.
Jack shook his head. "Impossible, that was before he even got to the Rune or the treasure. You're a terrible liar," he accused Norrington.
"The Devil's Dowry ain't necessarily got to be from that treasure. The Mark appears on any man that takes cursed treasure," Ana Maria pointed out.
"But the Mark is distinct for each case. Every treasure, every location has its own mark. Cortez's gold had no mark except for immortality," Jack said darkly, wandering over to his desk. He pulled out a drawer, and set it down. It was full of trinkets, and then he pulled from the bookcase a crutch. "This," he said, spinning the crutch, "is all that I have of Silver's."
"How could that possibly be of any use?" asked James.
"The next time you murder someone, tell me how simple it is to bury a body with gold and silver on it," Jack said, half grinning. But from his tone, James had hit on a personal area of his life.
"So what are we searching for?" Camille asked, distracting him from whatever awful memory had gotten ahold of him just then.
"I'm not sure." He rotated the crutch in his hand, looking over it carefully.
"But if he had the snake and the skull, doesn't that mean that it was from the Rune?" she asked. She was very confused.
"How could he have gotten a mark from treasure he had not yet taken?" Ana Maria asked. "And there wasn't even any fire. Was there?"
James shook his head. "Nothing, there was no source of light near enough to his skin."
"Then he carved it," Jack concluded.
"From what? Gabriel had the map the entire time," Camille protested.
"It's all very strange. The bottom line is, I think, that Silver knew about the Dowry," James said.
"So how does that help us at all if he is dead?" Ana asked.
"You have the same mark that he did Captain Sparrow, do you not?" James asked.
The three of them looked at him. This was the very first time he hadn't referred to Jack as "Mr." Sparrow, and it sounded odd coming from him. Jack eyed him suspiciously, still rotating the cane.
"Just what are you trying to tell us, James?" Camille asked.
"I am simply pointing out that perhaps, as in most cases, there is more to the story than is being told."
"And are you accusing me of putting these men and women's lives in danger so that I can go off on some wild goose chase? Because I could very well do it alone. It's not at all what you think it is, Commodore," Jack sneered, "so you had best get off my ship in whatever way you see fit."
"Jack, the crutch!" Ana Maria shouted, almost causing him to drop it. A moment before it had been nothing but a plain wooden crutch. Now one could clearly see the Mark inscribed on it. "What does it mean?"
Jack looked at James. "Would you like to answer this one?" he asked with his biting sarcasm.
But James just stared at the crutch. "I've no idea."
"Something's not adding up," Camille pointed out. "Besides the entire Devil's Dowry that's enshrouded in mystery. James, just why did you come on this ship?"
"Another good question. I have some very distressing news for all of you, but especially you, Miss Quartermaine. There is a Commodore heading the King's Navy, and a rather large price on your head, Sparrow."
"Lovely," Jack said. "Not get off my ship."
"Well, who is it?" Camille pressed. "Don't tell me…"
James nodded. "Gillette."
"How in the hell did he get out of jail?" Camille demanded.
"The charges were dropped. He is a very persuasive man. The money couldn't be found."
Jack grinned his little half grin. "The story's starting to make sense now. How is it that Commodore James Norrington, the pride of the King's Royale Navy, could do something so detrimental to his career?" he mused.
"Jack!" Camille cried. "James, don't pay any attention to him."
"That was my plan from the beginning, Miss Quartermaine."
"So all of this is Gillette's doing? We can't let him get away with this."
"Certainly not. And Sparrow, the next piece of information I give should silence even you," James said, finally directly addressing Jack. "He is headed for Colombia as well." And this indeed, did silence the three of them.
Jack said nothing after this. He left the cabin, and they were to set sail immediately. All quandaries about taking Gretchen or James off the ship were dropped.
Camille remained in the cabin with him, just staring at him. She had no idea how he had managed to get all of this information, but he must have nearly died getting it. That was the only reasonable explanation. Or this could have something to do with him not being Commodore anymore. Perhaps he knew too much, perhaps he had become too engrossed in the mystery for his own good. And something else was clear to her, as well. Jack was going to kill him.