I've killed the Admiral….
Her stomach threatened to heave and she thought she'd be ill then and there. She could not breathe--a fact for which she was thankful when Jones and half his crew stormed onto the lower balcony.
"What's the meaning of this?" One of the creatures growled at the one who had given away the escape.
"The Admiral's escaped."
"The Admiral's escaped?" The words swept around the gathered crewmen like a round in a song until all realized the import of what had occurred.
"To the Captain's Cabin!" Isabelle suddenly found her legs and leapt up, sprinting across the deck and down towards the captain's cabin ahead of the Dutchman's crew.
"Mr. Mercer!" She shouted as she burst through the door. "We have a problem!"
"Problem?" The man glanced up form where he'd been writing a report at the small desk beside where the chest with the heart sat.
"The Admiral has gone overboard; the crew of the Dutchman believes that Jones is now in full command of the ship." She said in a rush, fear catching the better of her. Suddenly gunfire erupted outside and Mr. Mercer rose and came towards her. He pulled her away from the doors and with a wave of his hand distributed the marines in the room into a protective fan around the chest.
"Stand behind them." Mercer said gruffly, shoving Isabelle behind the marines. Isabelle did as she was told. Some held pistols and knelt, others held muskets and stood. She leaned against one of the vaulted ribs of the interior of the ship as one of the marines came to stand before her.
"Don't worry miss, I'll protect you." Isabelle looked at the young marine. She could not smile, her heart beat so fast in her chest. The sound of her own heart pounded in her ears beating a fast staccato to the heavy and slow bass beat of the heart in the chest partway across the room. Four crewmen burst through the door but did not advance seeing the level of firepower aimed at them. Jones entered shortly after. Isabelle gasped when she saw that he held the Admiral's sword, the fine blade shimmering in the dim light of the cabin.
"The Dutchman is under MY command." Mercer drawled as he held the key to the chest. Jones' eyes swept over the room until he saw Isabelle in the corner. The young marine before her gripped his gun tighter and stared back at the terrifying captain who towered in the doorway.
"For now." Jones ground out as he stomped from the room. Isabelle hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until she exhaled and took another shuddering breath.
"What hand did you have in this?" Mercer growled, turning towards Isabelle.
"I had no hand in it." Her voice sounded thin and she cleared her throat.
"You three, go down and see that the prisoners are safe, especially Miss Swann." The three men Mercer had signaled to, jogged from the room, their muskets and cartridge boxes clicking softly.
"They won't find them." Isabelle said, finally finding her voice. "The admiral was helping them escape when he went over."
"What?!" Isabelle flinched as Mercer's anger engulfed her.
"You heard what I said. Admiral Norrington was helping Captain Swann and her crew escape when he went over."
"You saw it and did not raise the alarm? You saw it and let it happen?" He closed the distance between them and thrust the young marine from in front of Isabelle. The boy went skidding across the floor and his musket discharged, blowing a hole in one of the big organ pipes. Mercer and Isabelle both ignored it. The dark eyed mercenary towered over Isabelle and both glared at one another, neither planning to back down.
"I arrived only after the crew had left. The Admiral went over when the ropes released and he was knocked into the drink by one of the blocks."
"I don't believe you." Mercer whispered, his eyes narrowing.
"You don't have much of a choice in this matter. If I had any part in this, do you think I'd have come running to you to warn of the danger?"
"Aye, I do. I think you would have come scampering here because you knew that in the confusion I'd protect you." He smiled coldly at her. "You know I'll keep you alive so that your brother can enjoy interrogating you."
"I think I'd have rather risked a swim than to allow that to happen." Isabelle said trying to act brave but feeling her knees quiver beneath her.
"Well then, you should have jumped when you had the chance…."
Isabelle sat in a chair in Captain Jones' cabin and stared at the chest as if she hoped her gaze might set it on fire. Several of the marines glanced over their shoulders at her nervously but went back to standing guard. She was tired, having not slept at all. She was also cranky, knowing that the Flying Dutchman was sailing fast in the direction of Cutler and the Endeavor.
She withdrew her angry gaze from the chest and instead let her mind wander.
Where was Jack in all this and what was going on?
She closed her eyes and cast her thoughts out letting them race from the stuffy cabin to burst out across the open seas. Isabelle latched on to his consciousness and watched as the crew of the Black Pearl labored in the bright sunlight. Jack's kohl black eyes gazed across the teaming deck to where Barbosa and the dark skinned woman seemed to be having an argument. Jack and Isabelle both watched as the woman tried to walk away from Barbosa but was not able to get far. Barbosa latched onto the woman's arm and brought her back to face him. He called out to two sailors and Isabelle gasped as she recognized the tall gangly and slightly stupid looking one from one of her visions. The tall pirate and his shorter friend--the belligerent hermonculous as Jack had called him—escorted the woman down the decks presumably to the hold. Isabelle watched as the woman held her head high and descended like a queen into what was undoubtedly her incarceration. I hope I look that grand and brave when my time comes. Isabelle thought briefly.
Isabelle was pulled from her vision when someone spoke to her.
"Here miss, I brought you some food." Isabelle opened her eyes and looked up at the young marine from before. He had taken his oath to protect her quite seriously.
"Thank you." She took the tin plate with its one moldy looking biscuit and a piece of briny salt pork. It didn't look at all appetizing. She set the plate in her lap and picked at the biscuit, figuring that to be the lesser of two evils. "What is your name?"
"Adam ma'am. Adam Monroe." He said with a slight bow.
"Adam Monroe, I'm about to tell you something that might wound you deeply." Isabelle said as she slowly chewed on the hard biscuit. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, so understand me—what I'm about to tell you is for your own good."
"Ma'am?" The boy looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.
"You need to stop being so nice to me." Isabelle looked away. "It will go much better for you if you distance yourself from me in the days to come."
"Begging your pardon, Miss Beckett, but I swore to protect you. I'll not back out on you now."
"Mr. Monroe, my brother, his Lordship, is a man who is not to be trifled with." Isabelle looked back, her green eyes drilling into the brown doe eyes of the underage marine. "Believe it or not I have crossed him. I will be punished and any who stand on my side will be condemned to the same fate."
"Condemned?"
"Yes, you'll more than likely be clapped in irons, your pay will be forfeit, any you have coming to you will be seized. You and your family will suffer greatly. I am thankful for your protection, but I can not allow you to endanger yourself on my behalf. Now—it's time for you to be on the watch of that wretched heart." Adam opened his mouth as if he were thinking of saying something but then closed it again and trudged over to where the other marines stood clustered around the chest. He tapped an older marine on the shoulder and the man went to get some sleep in the corner of the cabin. Adam gave one look back at Isabelle and then fell in beside his older comrades, who hadn't given Isabelle a moment's notice since she'd come barging into the Captain's Cabin the evening before.
As night fell they came within sight of the Endeavor. Isabelle was roughly hauled to her feet and dragged out on deck to a waiting lifeboat.
"You leave Captain Jones in charge of the Dutchman?" Isabelle asked Mercer as he escorted her roughly to the rail. "That doesn't seem to be a very smart decision." She glanced up to the helm where Jones stood beside his bosun.
"He's not staying ….he'll meet us aboard the Endeavor." Isabelle looked at the small boat being lowered into the sea beside them.
"May I not change before we go across---clean myself up?"
"No, you may not. Until otherwise decided, you are a suspect in the escape of the crew of the Empress." Isabelle wrenched her arm from Mercer's grasp and glowered at him.
"How dare you suspect me of assisting in that!"
"You have a history." Mercer said cruelly, leering at her. Several of the marines stood around and watched. Isabelle looked as if she wanted to push Mercer over the side, or perhaps like she wanted to strike him, or perhaps she merely wanted to run. Most of the soldiers were surprised to hear that she had a history with pirates. They never would have suspected that a woman of such obvious breeding would be connected with two previous escapes from captivity.
Isabelle sat in the small boat and stared stonily at the back of the head of the marine before her. Adam Monroe had stayed aboard the Dutchman and for that she was glad. She didn't want him to be nearby should Cutler's anger get the better of him.
The row to the ship was quiet. The silence around Isabelle felt as a great weight and she felt almost suffocated by it. The ever constant bank of fog that traveled with the Dutchman did not help matters, the unnatural air pressed down around them making the atmosphere ominous, dark and miserable.
Isabelle climbed over the rail and tried to smooth her skirts down. She looked around the decks of the Endeavor and saw two men hauling something from the sea. Her arm was grasped tightly by Mercer and he dragged her towards Cutler's cabin. Isabelle struggled against him and tried to remove her arm from his grasp. She would not be hauled before her brother as a prisoner. Her indignant thoughts were interrupted and she stifled a shriek as they passed by a stack of bodies clad in East India colors. She tripped over one of the dead men's extended hands and only then did she realize that the men on the opposite side of the deck were pulling another hapless victim from the sea. What was going on here?
Isabelle and Mercer stood in the corridor and listened to the conversation within her brother's cabin.
"Is Jones here?" Mercer asked as an officer came out of her brother's cabin and towards them in the narrow hall.
"Arrived not a second ago, sir." The marine said, rubbing his shoulder. Mercer nodded, but Isabelle's attentions were focused within the cabin.
"I cannot be summoned like some mongrel pup!" Jones growled.
"Apparently you can. I believe you know each other?" Cutler's voice was as smooth as polished glass Jones' laughed filled the air and Isabelle shivered in spite of the lanterns that shed their light and heat into the narrow passage way.
"Come to join my crew again, Master Turner?" Isabelle's head began to spin. What was William Turner doing aboard the Endeavor and what was his part in all this?
"Not yours. His." Isabelle was confused. Now she wondered why Turner would choose to align with her brother when his fiancée was so strongly aligned with Jack. "Jack Sparrow sends his regards."
"Sparrow?" Jones asked. Isabelle's eyes raced around the corridor as she took in what she was hearing. Jones never knew that Jack had returned. James had, Cutler had, but no one had bothered to tell Jones that his most prized soul had escaped from the Locker. Why had she known that Jack had escaped but Jones hadn't?
"You didn't tell him?" There was a beat. "We rescued Jack Sparrow from the locker along with the Black Pearl."
"What else have you not told me?" Isabelle found it hard to breathe as the ambient air temperature in the corridor began to rise.
"There is an issue far more troublesome." Cutler said smoothly. "I believe you're familiar with a person called Claypso?"
"Not a person, a heathen god. One who delights in cursing men with their wildest dreams and then revealing them to be hollow and naught but ash." Jones was bitter. "The world is well rid of her."
"Not quite so well actually. The brethren court intends to release her."
"No! they cannot! The first court promised to imprison her forever! That was our agreement!" Isabelle felt sweat begin to slide across her scalp and down her neck. She would have fled had Mercer not held her fast.
"Yours?" Cutler drawled softly.
"I showed them how to bind her she could not be trusted." The sound of Jones' peg leg stamped softly across the floor. He was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken and he tried to redirect it. "I...she gave me no choice! We must act before they release her."
Isabelle's mind was suddenly flooded with several images. Mercer watched as her eyes went silver. He wanted to back away but felt compelled to watch on.
Isabelle first saw a man take control of a fine looking ship, bidding farewell to a shadowy figure on a beach. His heart was full of love and the sweet strains of a music box floated across the surf from where a small boat took him to his ship and away from his love. She too had a matching music box and the songs played together.
She saw again what she now knew was the first Brethren Court and saw the dark skinned woman appear out of thin air.
She was pulled from the Brethren Court to the decks of the Black Pearl. Jack circled Jones and rambled at the monstrous captain…."Have you not met Will Turner? He's noble, heroic, terrific soprano. Worth at least four... maybe three and a half. And did I happen to mention... he's in love. With a girl. Due to be married. Betrothed. Dividing him from her and her from him... would only be half as cruel as actually allowing them be joined in holy matrimony. Aye?"
She was then taken to the decrepit shack in the middle of a dark and foggy bayou. The voo doo priestess inside rattled fish bones in her hand and looked at the pirates congregated about. Jack was present as were several others of his most trusted Pearl crew. She saw a silver locket with a face and crab claws, and then saw a matching pendant lying on the ledge of the organ in Jones' cabin.
"That which tempts all man…a woman! Him fell in love!"
"a woman, as changing, and harsh, and untamable as the sea. Him never stopped loving her. But the pain it cause 'im was too much to live wid. But not enough to cause him to die."
Things were falling into place. Her eyes returned to their natural dark color and she was instantly engulfed in the heat of the hallway and a slight trace of fear lacing the air. She glanced over at Mercer and almost smiled. The fear was plain to see in his eyes.
"You loved her." Apparently things had also fallen into place for William Turner. "She's the one. And then you betrayed her." There was shock and disappointment in the young man's voice.
"She pretended to love me!" Jones said trying to justify himself. "She betrayed me!"
"And after which betrayal did you cut out your heart I wonder?" Isabelle felt the anger rolling off of Jones. She heard the sound of china breaking and then Jones whisper, ominously low.
"Don't test me!" In the silence that followed there was shuddering burst of heat and Isabelle sagged beneath the press of it.
"Oh no you don't…" Mercer snarled, hauling her back up to her feet.
"You will free my father and you will guarantee Elizabeth's safety, along with my own." Turner announced.
"Your terms are steep, Mr. Turner." We will expect fair value in return." Always the businessman. Isabelle thought as her brother spoke.
"There is only one price I will accept: Calpyso murdered!" Jones shot back.
"Calypso is aboard the Black Pearl." Turner said easily. "Jack has sailed the Black Pearl to Shipwreck Cove." Mercer took that moment to march Isabelle into the doorway of the cabin. Jones' back was to her, William Turner stood beside the large globe and Cutler stood beyond the tea table. Cutler glared at her briefly before turning his attention to the matter at hand.
"And with you no longer aboard her how do you propose to lead us there?" Turner glanced at Isabelle, at Jones, at Mercer and at Cutler, his eyes sweeping the room, his thoughts sweeping his options. Isabelle saw his hand drift to his side to where a black and gold compass hung from his belt.
"What is it you want most?" Turner asked.
"No!" Isabelle shouted. She didn't know why she was so against finding Jack, but she knew in her heart of hearts that the outcome would not be good.
"Mr. Jones, escort Mr. Turner to the helm with our heading. The Flying Dutchman will follow along. Mr. Edwards, have Mr. Morganstern signal the other ships to follow as well." William Turner's eyes locked on hers for a moment as Mercer held her fast. He looked as if he wanted to stop; wanted to question her. "Mr. Turner, we haven't got all day…"
Turner and Jones left the room and Isabelle was left with Mercer and Cutler.
"Isabelle. Quite the outburst…I can't begin to understand the reasoning for that." Cutler said smoothly taking a sip of tea.
"You already know, I'm sure." Isabelle answered, breaking free of Mercer. "You know very well why."
"You're afraid I'll catch up to all the hostages you've set free over the years. My but I am a fool for believing you all this time."
"Lies? You always accuse me of lies!" Isabelle raged. "Even when I tell you the truth, you second guess me!"
"Tell me now, honestly. Did you release Jack all those years ago?"
"No! I've told you…." For a moment Isabelle had thought of being honest, but she'd been telling the lie for over a decade and it slipped across her lips as easy as if it were the truth.
"LYING!" Cutler raged as he stomped towards her. Isabelle evaded him and put a work table between them. "What about Elizabeth Swann?"
"That was her father. I had no hand in it."
"But you let it happen? You were an accomplice!" Isabelle said nothing. Her guilt was stamped deep within Cutler's mind. She had been guilty of helping Jack escape, yes. But she would not admit it now. She would not tell him how she encouraged Elizabeth to leave the coach before arriving at the waterfront. She would not tell him of her hand in killing Admiral Norrington and allowing the crew of the Empress to escape. "And what's this Mr. Mercer reported?" Cutler picked up a sheaf of papers and flipped through them looking for the page he desired. "Elizabeth Swann, newly made captain of Sao Feng's ship Empress was sprung from the Flying Dutchman's brig in the dark of night and was quit of said ship. Admiral Norrington was unfortunately lost in the event and was not recovered in the ensuing confusion over the question of command." Cutler glared up at her. "I wonder, shall we add a third jail break to your record?"
"I had no hand in it."
"You seem to have a hand in very little, Isabelle. Did you witness it and fail to raise the alarm?"
"There was no time…."
"You are an ACCOMPLIS!!!!!" Cutler shouted, spit flying from his lips—flame flying from his being. Isabelle flinched. Cutler raced around the table and Isabelle moved putting more space between them. She didn't dare turn her back on him. "I've sheltered you, fed you, clothed you and this is the thanks I get? My father makes you a part of this family, gives you his name—his NAME—and this is the thanks he gets?" Isabelle squeaked involuntarily as Mercer's talon like grip pinched into the flesh of her arms. She had been so concentrated on Cutler that she'd forgotten about Mercer. "I'm tired of giving Isabelle. I'm tired of your ungratefulness…I'm divorcing you of this family."
"You can't…"
"I think you'll find I can, actually. I am Lord Beckett now. I have the authority to do what I will. I will not have an ungrateful wretch of a woman in my family. I especially will not have one that associates and aides piracy and crime." He went behind his desk and signed a document that lay there. He looked up when he was done and laced his fingers together before him. "You are no longer Isabelle Beckett. You will take on some other name, the one you were born with no doubt. No longer do the privileges of the realm apply to you."
"What privileges?" Isabelle spat, she was upset, she felt as if she wanted to cry, but anger was the more dominant emotion at this point and really all she wanted to do was to come across the cabin and slap Lord Beckett for all she was worth. "You have treated me like dirt for the past six years! Ever since our father died…."
"MY FATHER DIED!" Cutler raged. He slammed his hands onto his desk and rose quickly. "He never should have taken a beggar wench the likes of you in."
"I never asked to work for Lord Andrew Beckett." Isabelle said, glaring at Cutler. "He took me in. He knew that even as a child I could do more for him than you EVER could!"
Cutler crossed the cabin quickly and struck her across the face. She would have fallen to the ground had not Mercer had a fierce hold on her. Cutler's eyes bore into her, his mouth pinched and his whole body seemed to shudder with the force of his rage. Suddenly he looked down at her gown and a smirk slowly spread across his face.
"Is that Calico you're wearing?" Isabelle was taken aback. First he rails at her for his father choosing to employ her and then he asks about her wardrobe. "Answer me."
"I suppose it is…"
"Mr. Mercer, remove that garment from her."
"You wouldn't dare!" Isabelle struggled against Mercer.
"I can and will. Calico is a banned import."
"I had this dress before the embargo! I can wear it if I like."
"A waif like you could not afford the tax. You are no longer privileged remember?"
"Mr. Mercer need not disrobe me. I'll do it myself." She did not budge though.
"I'm waiting." Cutler growled.
"I'll remove it when I'm back aboard the Flying Dutchman and can put on a simpler gown. I'd be happy to do it here if a dress can be procured…."
"You'll remove that dress now. Everything you own belongs to me."
"What?!" Isabelle's voice was thin, barely above a high, piercing whisper, her shock was so great. Mercer's hands were suddenly at the collar of her gown and with a swift pull he split the seams and had the bodice half off of her. She shrieked and struggled against him. "Stop it!"
Two marines appeared at the door to the cabin and looked in at the scene unfolding before them. Isabelle was half divested of her bodice and she was struggling violently against Mr. Mercer. The two marines looked to Lord Beckett.
"Get out. You're not needed in this." Beckett ordered.
"But sir…."
"OUT!!!"
Isabelle managed to free a hand and slapped Mercer as hard as she could. The man stepped away from her and clutched his stinging cheek.
"I hate you…"Isabelle snarled. "I hate you both…" She wanted to cry. She felt humiliated and terrified, but still the anger sat above it all, as oil above water.
"I don't care." Cutler said. "It brings me no heartache…no sorrow. You are nothing." His face creased with a slow, evil smile. "Remove the rest of that garment."
Isabelle set her jaw and locked eyes with his. Slowly, and with sharp, angry motions, she untied the waist of her skirt and let it drop to the floor. She shivered in the chill air coming in through the windows but maintained her glare. Clad only in her shift, light corset and petticoats she was sure she looked quite the fool.
"Isabelle Beck…." Cutler stated in his best official voice but cut himself off abruptly. "Well you aren't a Beckett anymore now are you? Oh dear. Do you remember your last name from before?"
"No."
"Oh well then—Isabelle, you have been convicted of the association and aiding of known pirates. You are also suspected of murder."
"Murder!?!" Isabelle gasped.
"Admiral NOrrington. Since you witnessed the crime, and his body was not recovered, one can only assume you had a hand in his demise." He smiled. "But I suppose you'll say you had no hand in that as well."
Isabelle looked at the floorboards. She wasn't sure if the Admiral was alive or dead. She hadn't intended the block to hit him as it did. She didn't know if he'd been able to swim to the Empress or if he had fallen unconscious and drowned. Part of her hoped that he had survived, but the greater part of her suspected that he had died. Her thoughts were pulled from James' fate as Cutler began to prescribe hers.
"Since many of these offenses are without evidence and only based on conjecture I will be lenient. You will be punished under the laws that were established during the time of your crimes."
"How merciful of you indeed…" Isabelle muttered.
"Gentlemen!" Two marines, different from the ones before, came in carrying a brazier of hot coals into the room. The tray contained the Company Brand.
"No…" Gone was the anger. She felt as if she had been plunged into an ice bath the fear was so sharp within her.
"Sir?" One of the marines looked to Lord Beckett for orders.
"If you gentlemen are squeamish, I'd suggest leaving." Mercer growled at them as he latched onto her arms. Both men scrambled from the room with a half rendered salute to Lord Beckett.
"I will indeed be merciful Isabelle. I will not brand you as others were. I will brand you where no one will see it. I want you to remember your crimes…." He came forward and slipped a heavy manacle around her wrist and drew the chain to a hook in the wall that stretched her arms high above her head. "Mr. Mercer, take her feet…."
"No! No!" Isabelle tried to kick with her feet but found it useless. Mercer latched onto her ankles and held fast. Cutler took up a short knife and quickly slashed up the side of her calf length petticoats. "Don't do this…."Isabelle had started to sob. "Don't do this…."
"It must be done…." Cutler reached for the glowing brand, and, ensuring that it was indeed red hot, carried it to the place where Isabelle was completely trussed. "I will be quick with it, I assure you…." Isabelle gave one last futile attempt at kicking out, but Mercer's grip was firm. Cutler parted her ruined petticoat with his left hand and with his right drove the brand into the soft flesh above her left knee. A scream pierced the air and mixed with the arid aroma of burning flesh. It took Isabelle quite a bit of time to realize that the scream had come from her.
A/N: So where is this going? Things are clicking along now. I hope you readers aren't going to be disappointed with where I plan on taking this. I only ask that you be patient and follow along. :-D
I promise, it's getting good!