The Trouble with Women
Chapter 19
Voguer Sur Les Vagues
--
"We be gathered here today to say our goodbyes, at least in this earthly existence, and to assure that your last wishes are fulfilled, and to thank you for everything you've done for us," Joshamee Gibbs's voice rang out upon the still deck in the morning sun.
"We therefore commit these bodies to the deep, looking for the general Resurrection in the last day, and the life of the world to come, through our Lord Jesus Christ; at whose second coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the sea shall give up her dead; and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in him shall be changed, and made like unto his glorious body."
Jack had never considered himself to be a very religious man. Proof of curses from gods or higher beings, however, assured him there were indeed goings on in the world around him that he had no control over. Perhaps there was a god watching over them all, but he hadn't and never would loose any sleep pondering over it. And if there were a heaven and a hell, Jack had no doubt in his mind where he would end up.
However, despite being quite non-religious himself (he found it all rather ridiculous when he had visited so many countries and encountered so many other gods and everyone seemed to believe in their own), Jack felt the need to give his two shipmates a proper burial at sea, prayers included. And, traditionally, it was him who would say the words, but not a god fearing man himself, Gibbs was left to the duty. Everything else had always been a bit unorthodox aboard the Pearl, so why not this as well?
Jack had sailed the Black Pearl out from Ambodiforaha and Sainte Marie the next morning at the crack of dawn and anchored a few leagues offshore with nothing but water on every side.
The two bodies, Timms and Labroc, sails sewn tightly around them, were brought up from below. The crew had gathered at the side of the Pearl as Gibbs had cleared his throat. They were usually successful in their ventures, and such ceremonies were not committed often, but nonetheless, the first mate had the prayer memorized by heart.
So did Jack, and he said the words in his head while they were recounted aloud for all to hear.
"Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace."
"Amen," every man aboard the ship chorused as one, a last and final goodbye to their two shipmates.
The bodies, held upon makeshift pyres at the side of the ship, were tipped gracefully and sent into the depths below.
That morning, the air was cold and heavy, the hot Indian sun somehow not reaching out enough to warm their skin.
--
It was a day later when Vivien was paid a visit once more. Her presence had been ignored once more save for the two meals that were delivered to the cabin twice a day. She'd been wandering the dusty cabin restlessly to satisfy her growing unease and stretch her cramped muscles. Days working aboard the Black Pearl had almost made her used to hard labour, and she felt rather like a blob of jelly just sitting around. Being a prisoner onboard Jack's ship certainly hadn't been so boring!
Then again, when Belfast was near her life was hardly boring.
Long after her lunch had been left, he burst through the door as she sat curled up upon the bed. He seemed to look triumphant, in a sense.
"Vivien, I have wonderful news!" he declared, and that was enough to know it was the opposite.
Vivien, however, was fixated on the man who had followed him in, hands clasped almost pleasantly behind his back. With hair black as coffee, dark eyes and a fitting moustache and goatee, she had, for a brief second, imagined him to be none other than Jack Sparrow. His manner of dress was somewhat similar, too. Her heart had fluttered, skipping beat, before she managed to compose herself.
But alas, as she gaped, staring harder, she noticed this man's nose was crooked as if broken, his lips thinner and hewascertainly not—dare she say?—as handsome as the Black Pearl's Captain. This man did not have the same air about him as the fleeting pirate had, and his clothes were clean and expensive. He was refined, Jack was uncouth. She couldn't help but thing they did share a sort of likeliness, however.
She was distracted from the new man when her guardian spoke once more.
"Vivien? Have you been listening?" Belfast inquired impatiently, and continued on without letting her answer. "We've past Madagascar and are now heading northwest towards your new home. Señor Antonio Elaido here has informed me that he knows of a small isle off the coast of Africa. We'll be dropping anchor by this time tomorrow," he told her almost pleasantly, but she could see the hint of malice in his eyes.
In turn, the Frenchwoman sent him a levelled glare. This certainly wasn't looking too good from her point of view. Tomorrow Belfast would once again have her holed up on an island, away from civilization and away from Jack.
If only…
If only what? she wondered to herself. If only Jack would come? If only he knew where she was! If only she hadn't been kidnapped in the first place. If only her name wasn't Vivien Brideau…
"What? Don't you have anything to say, Vivien?" Belfast asked, smiling.
She looked up, feeling her hope sinking with every passing second. If only she had never met Dorian Belfast. If only her father hadn't been a pirate!
"What is there left to say?" she asked wearily. "You have taken everything from me once again."
Belfast seemed not to hear her. "Don't you wish to know the name of your new home?" he questioned, turning to the Spaniard. "What did you call it?"
The man smiled. "The Isles de Nasumento. Rarely visited and almost completely inhabited. Except for a few local merchants and French settlers."
Belfast nodded his approval. "They can be taken care of. I can't have Vivien's name leaving that island. Too much trouble has been stirred up already. I wouldn't be surprised if Captain Sparrow has told all of Sainte Marie about our little treasure here," he said, staring intently at the woman.
Señor Elaido smiled, dark eyes twinkling. "My crew would be happy to be of service to you. Of course, it would involve more in payment than originally settled. I don't go killing people without being sure I'm paid to do it."
How nonchalantly they decided her fate. Vivien sat immobile as the two began to haggle over a suitable price. A hefty sum of money, so no doubt it was to come from her father's treasure once it was recovered. Her treasure.
What would Jack Sparrow do? she found herself wondering. Something sneaky, no doubt. Something underhanded, but clever. Manipulative…
"You're wrong, both of you," she told them suddenly, surprising both men out of their conversation.
Antonio was the one to speak. "¿Qué? Has the mouse finally got her tongue back?" he arched an eyebrow at her.
Vivien wasn't amused. "I wouldn't be so confident while Jack Sparrow still has a ship beneath his feet," she told them both evenly, but felt her palms already beginning to sweat. Mon Dieu, I am no good at deceit, she realized fretfully.
Belfast stared at her calmly, watching her like a hawk, while Antonio seemed put off.
The Spaniard growled in annoyance. "What is she saying? What does she mean?" he demanded irritably, already fed up with both the meek woman and her towering guardian.
"Yes, what do you mean by that? And don't you dare lie to me, Vivien," Belfast warned in that condescending tone of his, the one that Vivien hated so much.
Her fingers had fisted themselves in the folds of her skirt once more as Antonio turned to sneer at her. She tried not to wilt under the man's gaze but found she was failing miserably. Jack will come, Jack will come, she told herself firmly, believing it. She'd just have to wait it out. But even now, the fire had been set and she was watching it grow at a rapid pace. It was far too easy to slip and become careless with her words.
Belfast was staring, still. "I'm still waiting, Vivien," he said, attempting to intimidate her fully with his hefty stature, puffing himself out like a pigeon.
The Frenchwoman's heart thudded nervously in her chest. "What I mean…? What I mean is…" Throw him off balance, Vivien! she hissed at herself in her thoughts, and complied willingly. "You're wrong. I do know where my father's treasure is. The exact place, in fact. And I told Jack Sparrow. He said he'd give me a share if I cooperated, so I did," she blurted quickly, and scooted back on the bed even more when both the men's faces darkened considerably.
"Lies!" Belfast snarled, leaning over the woman like some wrathful demon, eyes ablaze. "You never knew where the treasure was and you never will!"
Swallowing, she jutted her chin out confidently. "A map was sent to me, by my father, years ago. Amaury told me to hide it from prying eyes, and that was exactly what I did!"
Belfast's face began to redden, and Antonio looked to be speechless.
Keep them on their toes, she reminded herself, and spoke again. "You're right. Jack may not come for me, but he will go to the Caribbean. He wants that treasure very much and he knows the place where it's hidden."
Belfast's jaw was working silently, his face burning with either humiliation or rage. He'd been had, or so he thought, and Vivien suspected it was a bit of both. Which wasn't a very good combination.
"Lying rat!" he hissed. "If you're so smart tell me where!" he demanded.
Her heart was thumping almost painfully beneath her ribcage as she answered. "You know. And so does Jack, who happens to have the fastest ship in the Caribbean. Your little wooden tub cannot match the Black Pearl for speed!" she spat haughtily.
Antonio Elaido's dark eyes clouded with rage, and she briefly wondered how she could have ever seen Jack in him. In one swift movement he had moved forward and dealt a powerful slap to Vivien's freckled cheek. Following the resounding smack her head snapped to the side, her body falling to the side with only a shaking arm to steady her weight.
Burning pain erupted across her skin, along her jaw. The mild taste of copper on her tongue, the prickling of tears behind her eyes. Vaguely, she heard the sound of Belfast shouting, and carefully edged off the bed so that it stood between her and the two enraged men.
They were facing her now, Antonio's cheeks burning a red matching Belfast's, which she might have found humorous at any other time but now disregarded. Tears were stinging the edges of her eyes, but she forced herself to keep speaking. Keep lying, keep baiting them.
"Non! Tu est tout stupide! Mon père…he sent me a map of the Caribbean. I have it memorized! Every island and every town. I showed Jack Sparrow where it is. He'll be on his way to the Caribbean right now on his ship!" she shouted hysterically, the taste of blood in her mouth turning her stomach.
Belfast seemed more outraged that shocked. "You have lied to me? The one who keeps your home and quiets down the rumours, who hired your servants and chooks and maids! And bought you a horse – straight from the isles of Ireland?" he exclaimed, disbelieving, his deep voice booming through the small cabin.
Vivien couldn't help it. A tear leaked from her eye running over her glowing red cheek, swollen with visible finger marks. "I lied to you, homme masscrante, because you have stolen everything from me! Mon foyer, ma liberté, ma vie! Vouz tout avez prise!"
Belfast's eyes narrowed, the deep wrinkles around his eyes deepening. He took a menacing step towards Vivien, who in her turn snarled like some feral animal.
"Je vous déteste, lâche avare!" she spat out, too flustered to speak English.
Her guardian snorted. "Me? A coward! You didn't even put up a fight! You'll live on a miserable little island the rest of your life!"
"Je m'en fous! Seulement si vous n'aurez jamais que vous voulez!"
Belfast seemed slightly shaken by her last remark, and turned sharply from his quarry to glare at Antonio.
"Out!" he exclaimed angrily. "Get out!"
Antonio didn't dare disobey. Dorian Belfast may have been older than himself, but he certainly wasn't any less dangerous.
And, so, Vivien was left with her guardian, who she almost expected to stay and beat her, what with the rage gleaming in his eyes. She was surprised when he stalked from the room, slamming the doors so violently behind him the entire doorframe shook.
For a moment, the petite Frenchwoman stood still, tears still running down her cheeks, cheek red and swollen, heart thumping madly with adrenaline. Then, the energy leaked from her bones and she slumped forward, knees hitting the floor hard as she buried her face in the side of the bed.
There, she sat and wept, thanking the heavens again and again for sparing her life once more.
--
It was well past midday when Jack was interrupted from his duties at the helm. Since that morning, he had been standing in the same spot staring at the same horizon, but his mind had been far away. He had no clue as to where he was heading, but it was away from Sainte Marie.
It was almost a welcome relief when the monotony of his day was shattered. He watched as a small scuffle seemed to break out by the hatch leading down below, and Cotton hauled the cabin boy, Rupert up from below by the collar of his shirt before dragging another form up onto the deck. It was another boy, who as soon as his feet touched the deck, launched himself at Rupert with a howl of rage. The two fell to the deck in a tangle of limbs.
Without another thought, Jack lashed the helm in place and bounded down the steps leading to the main deck. Gibbs, he saw, had already stepped in, hauling Rupert away from the other boy while Cotton restrained the other by the shirt. Several other crewmembers had stopped their work, but Jack shot them all stern stares and they turned around swiftly, but kept their ears cocked.
"Oi! What's this all about?" he called as he reached the small group, the two boys hurling insults at each other.
Gibbs shook Rupert to quiet him before addressing his Captain. "Jack! Seems we got ourselves a stowaway, Cap'n. A right familiar one at that."
It was true. Jack had to peer at the boy to recognize him under his layers of dirt and grime, but when he did there was no mistaking him. He was Duncan, their young informant.
"Where'd you find the lad?" he questioned, turning to Cotton.
As always, the colourful parrot answered with a squawk. "Splice the mainbrace! Splice the mainbrace!" it said, ruffling its feathers and shaking its head in typical parrot fashion.
There was silence for a moment, as it usually took a moment for anyone to translate what the parrot had said into something sensible.
"The galley, then?" Jack asked.
Flapping its wings, the parrot replied, "Wind in the sails!"
Gibbs nodded. "Suppose so. Seems Rupert 'ere is the one who found 'im."
Nodding fervently in confirmation, the small cabin boy faced his Captain. "The rotten little weasel jumped me from ahind! Just swabbin' thedeck I was!"
Immediately, Duncan jumped to his own defence, sneering at Rupert. "Ah! Don't lie ye maggot! I saws ya with that bread! Reckon you stole it from the cupbaords! Some cabin boy you are!" He spat, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
"Hmph! That comin' from a street urchin?" the cabin boy snapped back. "At least I didn't have to stow away to get aboard a pirate ship!"
The two boys struggled to get at each other again, but were dutifully restrained by their captors. Several crew members who had gathered chuckled at the scene the two were making. Such an event was a welcome release from the day's tension.
Gibbs whacked Rupert atop the head once more. "Shut up the both of you! I reckon the Cap'n'll have a word or two to say about this," he said, looking to Jack.
Jack, in turn, surveyed the two bruised boys with a passive face before stating carelessly, "I'm feeling rather inclined to toss you both overboard!"
Rupert began to protest with a whine, but Jack swiftly cut him off.
"But I'll hold off a bit cause I'm curious as to know why Master Duncan has found himself aboard my ship once more," he shot the cabin boy a severe look before fixing his gaze upon Duncan once more. He cocked an eyebrow at the boy. "Last time I saw you, boy, you looked ready to jump out o' your own skin to get off the Pearl. What's changed your mind?"
Duncan was suddenly silent when faced by Captain Jack Sparrow himself.
"Well, come on, we don't have all day," he prompted, gesturing wildly.
Still, the boy seemed hesitant, but while pinned with the eyes of several crewmembers and Jack Sparrow, he couldn't stay silent long. "I was robbed, alright! All my bloody money's gone!" he spat, glaring at Rupert, who was snickering to himself. Gibbs smacked the cabin boy lightly over the head once more, and Rupert was resigned to rub his sore skull.
"By who, might I ask?" Jack pressed.
The boy crossed his arms angrily, mood darkened even further. "I dunno. I reckon it mighta been one of Eugene's cronies. Been after me since I—" he cut himself off abruptly, pursing his lips and refusing to say more.
Jack gave the boy a curious look, but didn't question him. "So you ran to the Pearl? What did you think, that we'd give you a warm welcome? You know how stowaways are dealt with on my ship?" he asked, hoping intimidation would prompt the boy to be more cooperative. Jack wasn't in the best of moods today, after all.
"I have information!" Duncan said hurriedly, gazing beseechingly up at the pirate captain.
Feigning disinterest, Jack picked his fingernails. "Information? As I recall, you already told me everything I needed to know back in Ambodiforaha," he declared lazily.
"I got more," was the boy's quick reply.
By now, most the crew had gathered around to watch, and began whispering among themselves at this new revelation.
Jack's ears perked slightly, and he narrowed his eyes at his new passenger. "More, eh? Well, do you care to tell ol' Jack what this information might be?" he grinned persuasively.
Duncan, however, only seemed intimidated. "O-only if you don't throw me overboard! Or send me back! I want to stay on this ship."
Rupert opened his mouth briefly, eyes blazing, but shut it quickly as Gibbs's hold on his shoulders tightened.
Suppressing a chuckle, Jack peered down at Duncan. "And what makes you think you have what it takes to be a pirate, son?" he asked, taking in his half-starved appearance and raggedy clothes.
Duncan shot a distasteful glance at Rupert. "If he can, who's to say I can't?"
Jack smirked briefly, watching the two boys snap at each other again. He remembered being very much like the two of them when he had been but a lad. Always getting in scuffles with the neighbourhood boys over silly things like who could swim the farthest out to sea or who could steal the most apples from a market stall…
"Alright, I'll accept you aboard the Black Pearl as a crewmember and cabin boy, but only if I find your information helpful. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll be swimming back to L'île Sainte Marie," he threatened, but knew it was empty. He had never been overly cruel to prisoners or stowaways.
Looking, relieved, Duncan offered up his bargaining chip willingly. "The lady you're lookin' for, the French one, I know who's taken her," he declared confidently.
"Aye, I know that as well," Jack replied carefully.
"B-but I know the name of the ship! And where it's headed!"
--
Translations:
Voguer Sur Les Vagues – Sailing on the waves
¿Qué? – What?
Vous êtes tout stupide! – You are the stupid one!
Mon père… – My father…
homme masscrante – foul man
Mon foyer, ma liberté, ma vie! Vouz tout avez prise! – My home, my freedom, my life! You've taken everything!
Je vous déteste, lâche avare! – I hate you, miserly coward!
Je m'en fous! Seulement si vous n'aurez jamais que vous voulez! – I couldn't care less! Only if you never have what you want!
--Cayenne Pepper Powder