Chapter 19 Material and Immaterial

"Tell me about Elizabeth Swann."

Day was dying and the waters were darkening; yet the wind was warm and the air soft, even this far out to sea. Gibbs was sat at the stern, dozing in the company of a rum bottle that had some how got smuggled into the long boat. Jack however appeared sober and was sitting at the prow, bare feet draped over the side and his arm wrapped casually around the rail. He'd been here since she had first come up on deck and he showed no intention of moving.

The two men had slept most of the morning away after their ritual ablutions, as Jack had described them, one in his bunk and one in a hammock slung in the shade of the helm awning. Elanor had spent that time catching up on some basic maintenance and in consultation with Ariadne. It was only when Jack swanned on deck, eyes still heavy but other wise clean and sober looking that she sought her own bunk, leaving the men to unload the longboats and Ariadne to take the helm.

It was hunger that woke her as the sun hovered on the horizon and she stumbled upon deck to be greeted by a smiling Mr Gibbs and the smell of grilling fish.
"Jack says there be no fire below for cookin' ma'am, and neither of us could fathom the galley, so we lit a fire up here. I trust that won't offend this ghost of yourn, though if it has she has said nought about it."
Elanor smiled, Jack or Gibbs had rigged up something that looked to be a makeshift barbecue using some of the charcoal that Jack had insisted on adding to the list of supplies; 'might be no tinder on this island, nor vegetation, and I've no taste for raw fish for days on end' was all he had said when she had asked why. Looking around she could see that they had been busy, for as well as the barbecue the deck now hosted a small mound of well stacked and secured supplies under a tarpaulin, and a number of freshly gutted fish were laid out waiting to join the two already cooking.

Mr Gibbs appeared to be in charge of the food while Jack was sitting at the rail and, for once, apparently disinclined for company; for, though he turned to look at her when she arrived and flipped a hand in what might have been greeting, he made no move to leave his solitary position. Elanor wondered what was occupying his mind to the extent that he was forswearing company, something that he usually seemed so inclined towards, but she had made no move to join him. Instead she had gone back below to check the scanners, then collected some fruit from the stores and joined Gibbs.

Twice he had taken food to Jack and, though he had taken it, he had made no move to join them. A fact that Elanor found more than a little worrying.

Finally, having eaten his fill, Gibbs had produced his rum bottle with a slightly uncertain look in her direction.
"If ye have no objection to a man wetting his whistle ma'am?"
Elanor had waved her hand towards the bottle,
"No objection at all Mr Gibbs, provided you and Jack are sober enough to row a boat and shoot straight should it be necessary, and that you don't throw up over the deck, you can drink the seas dry between you as far as I'm concerned."
That won her a very uncertain look,
"Aye ma'am, that be kind of ye."
"Nothing kind about it at all, I'm not your keeper and the pair of you are more than old enough to decide how you want to live your lives."
His uncertain look remained and she smiled and softened her voice,
"Besides you have had a hard few days of it if the last one has been anything to go by. You deserve some relaxation and how you do it is up to you."
Either the words or her tone reassured him for he smiled wryly at her,
"That be right understanding of you ma'am."
She indicated the pile of supplies with her hand,
"No need to hide the bottles, I'm not about to ask you to throw them overboard." She got to her feet and dropped a hand on his shoulder, "but remember that we might not be making port for some time now. Who knows what's going to happen if we find this fountain, your need may be greater then than it is now."
Gibbs looked at her seriously for a moment then he smiled a wary smile,
"Aye ma'am. Best make 'em last then."

Elanor patted his shoulder in understanding and left to tackle Jack.

"So are you going to let me look at this injury whatever it is?" was her opening gambit as she stood behind him.
"Injury? What'd you mean?"
"You've been uncomfortable since that fight and it must be paining you a considerable amount to keep you sitting here all on your own when there is rum and company not a hundred feet behind you."
He cast a wary look at her over his shoulder and she smiled,
"Of course I know about the rum Jack, I'd have been astonished if you hadn't brought it. As I just told Mr Gibbs I've no objection, as long as you don't drink enough to get us killed as a result. Not my business how you chose to go the devil, just as long as you don't take me with you."
That earned her a frown and a narrow eyed look,
"Not tryin' to change me then?"
She shrugged,
"I've no right to try, and anyway I expect you are both beyond that."
He stroked his moustache at that and wriggled his shoulders as if uncomfortable,
"Mebbe" was all he said.

She sat down beside him, a move he ignored,
"So are you going to let me look at whatever it is that's bothering you?"
"Nothing to look at." He frowned at the sea, "few bruises. A scratch on me ribs nothin' worth any fuss about."
She watched him for a moment but he remained silent, just staring towards the horizon. In the end she gave in with a faint sigh,
"If you say so. No trouble though, if it doesn't get any better then tell me and I'll clean it up and dress it for you."
The offer just earned her another shrug and more silence.

For a while she sat beside him, saying nothing, the equally silent pirate beside her, his hands unusually still, clasped in his lap, his hair blowing in the wind and tangling with her own. The spray was taking on a rosy hue as the sunset deepened and a shoal of yellow finned fish could just be seen below the Chaser's wash. It was going to be a beautiful evening. Jack though seemed to be lost in another world.

"Tell me about Elizabeth Swann."
He remained still and silent for a moment then he turned towards her, something close to a frown in his eyes.
"What it she to you? " he said softly.
"Nothing. But I'm curious."
That brought the shadow of a smile as he turned away back towards the sea and the horizon,
"No, you're not curious. At least not about her. She's nothing to you, no reason that she would be. If you want to know it's for a reason." His voice was even enough, but it was also flat and expressionless.
She shrugged, unwilling to argue the point with him,
"OK, let's say I'm curious about this heart business and what it means for our the future."
" And why would Elizabeth Swann matter in such calculations? When I have already I told you that she is dead."
"And is Elizabeth Turner also dead?"
That caused him to turn towards her again, this time with a bright smile,
"Never was an Elizabeth Turner," he said, the smile faded and he shrugged dismissively. "Leastways, I suppose there may be somewhere, probably is, but can't say I've ever met one meself, not knowingly."
His evasiveness intrigued her,
"Well how about the pirate king?" she prompted,
He shook his head with another smile,
"Never one of those either. Pirates don't have kings."

He caught her eye and saw her lips part as she prepared to remind him of what he himself had told her and he cursed her ghost who heard and remembered everything. Very wearing it was going to be making sure all the tales tallied.
"King of the Brethren Court," he corrected her with another of those soft smiles that didn't reach his eyes, "not the same thing at all."
He looked back towards the sea, and waved a careless hand in her direction,
"Elected, but it only lasts for as long as the court is assembled."
She thought about that for a moment,
"So how does it work? If the Pirate king doesn't command the pirates what do they do? Where is their authority?" she said.
Jack stared at the sea for a moment longer then sighed heavily and raised an explanatory finger,
"The king can only command the officers of the Brethren Court, and they are the Pirate Lords. Crews follow their elected captains since they don't have a vote on the king. Not all captains are pirate lords' o'course, there's only nine of them, but it is unusual for a captain to go against the wishes of the court, though the code allows for it in some circumstances. As for the king's authority, well it comes from the Code, which sets out what the king can do and must do. If it's not set out in the Code then the king has no authority over it "

Elanor thought about that,
"More a sort of chairperson than a monarch then." She sat back slightly and watched Jack with narrowed eyes, "You said most pirates vote for themselves yet you voted her in? Why?"
That brought another languid wave of his hand,
"We were of the same mind about what had to be done."
"As simple as that?"
Jack shrugged but said nothing,
"Why did you have to vote for her, couldn't she have voted for you? Since you wanted the same thing and you'd been a Pirate Lord for longer?
"Aye she could have done."
"But she voted for herself instead?"
Jack's smile flashed again.
"Pirate," was all he offered as explanation.

"So how many kings have there been?"
"She was the second. Only ever been four courts. Pirates don't generally gather together in that way, too much of a temptation for the authorities were it to be a regular occurrence.
Elanor digested the idea in silence, but his explanation raised some uncomfortable possibilities,
"I suppose it would be. But from what you said it would seem that they know where this pirate city is now, aren't you worried that they might move against it?"
Jack seemed to think about that for a while and then he shrugged again,
"It's a fortress and well defended. Anyways the court is disbanded and so it's empty of those the authorities might desire to get at for the moment. The pirates will not return there until it is clear what the navy plans."
"What do you think they will do?"
"No ways of knowin' until they do it. Though it seems they have other things on their minds." He turned and grinned at her, "Unfortunately, for present circumstances, those things appears to include chasing me."

"I had noticed," she said dryly "But Ariadne says we are clear of them for the moment and we are well away from the main trade routes so we are unlikely to be spotted. Ariadne will keep her eyes well peeled."
"But you want to know where we are going." He stated flatly.
"Yes I want to know are we are going. I've seen the chart but it's not exact enough to give us a precise heading. Somewhere off Florida and up a bit from Cuba isn't that much help Jack, given that we can't afford to spend our time sailing in circles. Even assuming that the map is a true representation of the world, which we can't be sure of given its age."
Jack stared out at the sea for a moment longer then reached down and took his strange compass from his belt, flipped it open and stared at it for a moment watching he needle swing, a hint of anxiety visible in his face as it did so. Finally it came to rest and he smiled and held it out towards her.
"There you are Captain Cavendish," he almost purred. " we have our heading."

***

"Who be this Nat then?" Pintel demanded of Raggetti, "No Nat in this crew that I be a'knowin."
Raggetti pursed his lips and considered the question.
"Not conversant with any one be name of Nat meself. One of those two daft apeths maybe?"
"Never heard them called such," Pintel grinned, "heard 'em called a lot else but never Nat."
Raggtti grinned in return, then looked at his companion questioningly,
"So who raised the issues of this Nat person then?"
"Captain Barbossa."
"Ah" Raggtti's face took on a knowing expression as he fell silent, immediately irritating his friend,
"What's that supposed to mean?" Pintel snapped, "Ah, means nothin'."
"Was merely an acknowledgment of my sudden comprehension of the situation." Raggetti said.

Pintel swelled like a courting toad, his eyes popping like raindrops on hot stones in his annoyance,
"Well are ye goin to share this here comprehension then?"
Raggetti cast a careful look around him to make sure that they were alone, then he drew close to Pintel, whispering in his ear,
"Captain Barbossa, he has been given orders to people who aren't here. People only he can see. Haunted he is and they are becoming so real these ghosts that he thinks they are real and a part of the crew." he drew a way with a knowing look
Pintel stared towards the closed doors of the great cabin with narrow eyes,
"Is that so? Unsettlin that be, and dangerous for all concerned. Givin' orders to them that can't follow em."
"Aye, that it is. I heared him sendin' a man that weren't there to the crows nest this mornin' Dead look out not much use for nothin', at least not if rest of crew can't see him he isn't."
"That be true enough. Thought he'd got over all that. Seemed more like hisself when the navy was chasing us."
"That he did. Don't shout or scream so much now, but don't seem able to tell the real from the unreal, if you takes my meaning." Raggetti said.
"Oh I takes it alright." Pintel sighed, "wish we hadn't left Captain Jack behind."

Raggetti considered that,
"But he saw things that weren't there too."
"Aye but he only saw hisself, not Nats' and other people. Bit odd I'll grant ye hearin' him argue with hisself but he never thought to send his other self to the crows nest!" Pintel moaned.
"It'd not matter if he did since he could see hiself. But Captain Jack he hadn't even seen himself since he came back from the Dutchman."
Pintel nodded
"Aye made a mistake we did, sidin' with Barbossa. Best tell every man to keep an eye peeled for that white ship"
Raggetti stared out towards the seas,
"Lot of water out there. Think we'll spot her?"
Pintel caught sight of the crab scurrying into the shadow of a coil of rope and looked portentous,
"Oh we'll spot her sooner or later. Got a feelin' in me water that there be those who don't want us to lose her nor Capt'n Jack."

***

"And what exactly does the king expect me to do about it Governor?" Admiral Norrington drawled wearily. "James may have been my nephew but I have had no supernatural communication with him I assure you. No messages from beyond or ciphers written in blood. Though this Jones business must make us all review our beliefs on the hereafter."

"I doubt that the king thinks that you have," the man on the other side of the table smiled, "merely that it is his way of informing us that this matter is of prime importance." He patted his wig, "no doubt the church is as anxious as the admiralty for this business to be settled quietly with a few hearing as possible. As is the king."
"I am aware of that. More so than the king is; far more so. He can only just have received the details of Beckett's ill-advised actions. I doubt he yet realises the dangers the man's ambitions have exposed us to."
Norrington took another sip of his tea then dabbed his lips with the pristine napkin, the new governor had not been slow in establishing the forms and comforts. He hoped that was not a bad sign, it would take an astute man to sort out the tangle left behind by the EITC's Caribbean venture. He raised his eyes to see a pair of calm grey ones watching him with a shrew expression, the sight reassured him a little, even so he sighed,
"While Davy Jones was a legend he was of no danger to any one. Now? Well now he is a danger to us all. Stories about hearts in chest is one thing but the knowledge that there really is one that can be used to control the Flying Dutchman is quite another."

"I may not be a sailor but I do realise the political implications of the situation Admiral." The governor's mild tone was itself a reprimand, "none better I assure you, even though I have barely had the time to unpack my trunk." He raised his eyebrows in exasperation, "be assured that the stink from those shallow graves and gibbets will remind me if I am in danger of forgetting."
He took a small bite of a macaroon and chewed in thoughtful silence,
"What was Beckett about to take such a course? Did the man not know where it might lead?"
The Admiral considered that over another sip of tea,
"I never met the man so I cannot speak from personal experience, but I doubt that he ever gave any thought to things not going his way. No doubt he was of the opinion that what ever difficulties there were he could buy his way around them."
"Or kill." The governor said dryly.
"Or kill." Admiral Norrington agreed, "The involvement of this man Mercer is a particularly worrying aspect of the matter."
"Did the king not send him with Beckett?"
Norrington frowned,
"No. Mercer was dismissed from his post some five years ago, he was known to be something of a loose cannon."

There was a moment of silence before the Governor sighed,
"The number of ships he commandeered is outrageous. The stack of claims for compensation on my desk is more than a foot high!"
The Admiral frowned,
"Navy ships too. I shudder to think what would have happened had the Spanish made a move towards war in these last months."
"Ah. The Spanish." The governor put his cup down slowly, "another difficulty Beckett has wished upon us."
Norrington nodded,
"They know. Yes I am aware of that. It was that possibility that caused the king to send me here to persuade Beckett to be more cautious if I could. Even then it was too late, the admiralty knew that. Though I hadn't expected the fighting to be over. Beckett acted in a most precipitous manner."
The governor nodded,
"I doubt that Weatherby, or the pirates, left him much choice." He looked towards the weary face of the sailor opposite, "he tried to get his daughter away you know, but he failed with tragic consequences."
The Admiral nodded slowly,
"So it seems, though I doubt that marriage to James would have made much difference to her fate in the longer term. She was the card Beckett held over Governor Swann's head. Her fate was always sealed along with his."

The governor sat back in his chair the sun slanting through the curtains glinting gold in the threads in his waistcoat,
"So what are you charged with Admiral? Finding the heart for the king?"
Norrington nodded abruptly
"If Sparrow does indeed know where it is. Groves, the officer who survived the destruction of the Endeavour seems to think that he will."
"Well I would imagine that he would demand a very high price for that knowledge. He is a pirate after all he had no country. Still I suppose no price is to high if he will give us control the seas. We must certainly find him before the Spanish do."
The admiral buried his nose in the teacup as he replied,
"Or anyone else. Imagine what it might fetch in an open auction."

The governor paled,
"I'd really rather not. Beckett was bad enough. " A thought occurred to him, "What if Sparrow decides to use it for his own purposes?"
The admiral sighed,
"What indeed? Let us hope that Groves and Hathaway find him quickly."

***

Elanor had taken the heading and had gone to confer with her ghost. After ten minutes or so Jack had felt the Dawn Chaser shift, canvas adjusting to the changing wind as she came around to the new heading. It was at moments like this that he was most aware of the strangeness of this ship, of the silence and the calm of it.

Jack sat staring over the sea as the night lengthened shadows and darkened the wave caps, the compass open on his knee. Gibbs was apparently sleeping, his snores carried away on the wind. Elanor was no where to be seen or heard. Small lights began to glow in the decks and masts as the darkness deepened reminding him suddenly of those lanterns on the seas of the dead. He pushed the thought away with some difficulty, uneasily aware that the past was sitting heavily on him this evening. Maybe because there had been a moment when he had worried that the compass would not show him what it was he thought he wanted. But after a moment of nasty indecision it had. At least he thought that it had, as it was not pointing to anything on the ship he could only assume that the heading was that of the fountain, or maybe the Pearl. Either way he wouldn't be sure until they got there.

He was aware of a tension in himself, like a rope pulled taut, and the tension was not only in his mind, his body was no less uneasy. The pain of the slash across his ribs, perhaps a little deeper than he had Elanor to believe, was a slow burning irritant, yet more bearable than the thought of her soft handed ministrations. He swallowed hard on the idea of them, knowing that he could not bring himself to run the risk of seeing concern in her face, of being so close to the silk fall of her hair, feeling the velvet of her skin...

He shook himself and cursed the spies in Tortuga who had so curtailed his activities. 'A man needs release' he told himself, 'particularly when forced into the company of a sharp tongued angel.' But events had precluded him searching for it in port, and he was unlikely to find it here. Better get used to it for it was likely to be this way for a while. For a moment he wondered if even the Fountain would prove to be worth it. At least there was the consolation that his current companion of the female persuasion, though a fantasy in so many ways, was not of a teasing turn of mind; he should be grateful for that. Grateful too that this ship was so strange, and fast, given that he had not just James Norrington but the whole bloody Navy on his tail.

Jack got to his feet and wandered down to the pile of supplies, reaching into a coil of rope and pulling out a rum bottle before wandering back to his perch. Dropping the cork onto the deck he took a long swig before staring out into the darkness again. Strange there had been no darkness in the locker, not that he recalled it. Just glaring white and shadows as black as the Pearl's timbers. In his nightmares he could still feel the stillness of the air and the dryness of the sand blasted air in his lungs, only the sight of the sea reassured him that he was free of it and that this was not a dream.

No, he needed to find the fountain. The compass would reflect that and the bearing would be true. But that wouldnt be the end of it. The heart of the Flying Dutchman was not safe now they all knew of it, and nor was he. While they thought he knew of it he would not be free of them. Fate wasn't finished with him it seemed, for the heart must never be found and only he could make sure of that, but he couldn't do that without the Fountain.

Jack swallowed more rum and grimaced. He had lived long enough to know how the world worked and he had no doubt of the score, whoever found him would offer him anything he desired, but the only thing they would be intending to leave him with would be death.