Chapter 22 Its begun
It was three weeks after Barbossa started issuing orders to ghostly crew men, three weeks spent sailing in circles, that they spotted the white ship.
Marty saw her first, he was lookout and staying as far from his captain as he could, a course that many of the crew were beginning to adopt. The choice being not to see what was happening or mutiny, and Barbossa was not yet so far gone as to be safe; not when there wasn't another captain of suitable fighting weight to hand.
But it was more by chance than design that he saw her, a grey shadow on the horizon. She was sailing under full canvas and steering a north westerly course, her masts and decks lit by fire flies in the dimming evening light, or so it seemed. 'Barbossa nat be fully mad yet then' was his first thought, but the sight of those lights caused him to pause for a moment, for they reminded him of the stars on the edge of the world, and his second thought was to wonder whether it wouldn't be best not to see her.
But Barbossa's bellow from the deck beneath him reminded him of the ever growing strangeness on his own ship, if Captain Jack was aboard that shadow then the sooner they recovered him the better. Marty wanted any other captain than the one that he had these days, excepting Pintel or Raggetti that was, and without Jack Sparrow they were the only others he was likely to get. Even so caution seemed the best course and he waited until Barbossa had returned to the fastness of the great cabin before he descended to the decks and went in search of other opinion.
"Tis her sure enough, the white ship" he said to the small gang he gathered together around the water barrel.
Pintel looked unhappily at Raggetti,
"Tol' you that we'd see her agin."
"Goin to tell the Captain are we?" Raggetti asked slyly.
"Nat sure tat be such a good thing." Marty frowned, "strange that ship be, something other worldly about her. No sayin' what'll happen if Barbossa tries to take her." He looked around at the others, "all out attack be Barbossa's way, an' we could lose everything if it go wrong."
"Aye," Raggetti nodded, "got no guile, Barbossa. Captain Jack now, he'd think of some other way, but not Barbossa."
"But maybe Captain Jack is on that ship." Mullroy said, "You say that he considers the Black Pearl his, so if he sees us then maybe he'll come back." He looked around him, "without a fight."
His friend nodded,
"True enough, he didn't ask to be left behind, so if he sees us then maybe he'll come back of his own accord."
"An' not in a friendly mood as like. What'll Barbossa do to that even if he does?" Marty asked with narrowed eyes, "He'll not stand there and let him come."
"Why not? He wants the chart. Seems to me he'd be glad to see Captain Jack again." Murtog looked around him, "isn't that why we have been looking for him?"
Marty shook his head.
"Wants th' chart, but not Jack Sparrow on board."
"He'd kill him you think?" Murtog asked nervously,
Raggetti sniffed as he considered the possibility,
"Might, then agin' might not. No sayin' what he might do, state he's in at present. Might think that Captain Jack is already dead, seeing as he don't seem to know livin' from dead an longer. The again he might think they be back at Isle de Muerta and shoot him."
Pintel nodded agreement
"Never been slow with his pistol, not Barbossa," he said.
There was a moment of silence while they all considered that, then Raggetti frowned,
"The Pearl might not like that, not bearin' in mind where she and he have been together. Pearl might not take kindly to Barbossa killin' Captain Jack, a'spilin' his blood on her decks."
"Aye, she might no," Pintel agreed, "nor Calypso neither. No sayin' what Mrs Fish might do in those circumstances. She's forgivin' enough o' Captain Jack it seem, but not keen on Barbossa she be. Not after all the time she spent in the brig on his say so."
"But it caan't go on as it is." Marty said squinting towards the great cabin. "Barbossa get more lost by the day, today he sees the dead, hears the dead talking to him, no sayin' what it'll be tamarra."
"Aye," Mullroy and Murtog said together.
"Thinks we don't know that?" Pintel hissed, "think we don't see it? Mrs Fish brought him back to this world but seems to me she forgot to leave his death behind."
Raggetti nodded,
"Aye 'tis like he could only survive while she was bound, once she were free her power couldn't protect him, or wouldn't. Dissipated like, back into the seas." He grinned slyly around the little group, "Barbossa wanted to be master of his fate, seems like she granted his wish and left him to it. Unprotected."
"Then we need Captain Jack back as soon as can be arranged." Marty said, "I says we tell Barbossa an' follow the white ship."
"Or we follows the white ship and don't tell Barbossa." Raggetti said with a half grin.
Marty shook his head,
"Na need. Barbossa need that chart worsen ever, he'll follow any chance of it. Na need to risk stirrin' him up more than he be already."
Around him heads were nodded in reluctant agreement and he got slowly to his feet,
"I'll tell him then."
The others nodded and scuttled quickly to their duties lest he change his mind and leave them to do the telling.
Yet, as he crossed to the great cabin, he could have sworn he was being watched.
***
They watched the white ship for three days, always staying well behind her and out of view. For those three days Barbossa barely left the helm and the crew became accustomed to his shadow beside the silent Cotton, and the orders shouted to men that none but the captain could see. Cotton's parrot had deserted his master's shoulder and taken refuge in the topsail rigging, its unsettling utterances lost to the wind.
Mostly they avoided looking at their captain, for his eyes were red and haunted and his clothes hung loose, it had been many days since he had done much more than eat an apple, no product of the galley seemed to tempt him. When he wasn't staring at the sea and sky he fed nuts to little Jack and crooned him a lullaby in a language none of them understood. They knew how his mind was working though, for they would often overhear his conversations with those they could not see, his promises of lives renewed, of injuries paid for, of wrongs made right when he caught Jack Sparrow and wrung from him the chart and the secret of the fountain.
But it seemed that he was not to be granted the chance, at least not yet. For, on the third day, they crossed the path of a Spanish man o' war, unusual in these waters, and one who showed more than a passing interest in them. The ship was large and heavy with canon yet her inclination seemed more in taking them alive than sending them to the bottom, for her warning shots went wide, too wide to be just poor marksmanship. She matched course with the Pearl for half a day, flying flags of parley, signals Barbossa didn't see or ignored. Then came more warning shots and an alteration in her course to bring her into a line to close haul. Only then did Barbossa send the men to their stations and order the guns rolled out.
Then suddenly the wind changed, the sheets hung limp and the swell dropped to little more than the ripple on a millpond.
The crew of the Pearl stared at each other in consternation, for doldrums here and in this season were unknown. Pintel watched a crab scurry behind a coil of rope and leaned across to Raggetti,
"Mrs Fish," he hissed. "I tol' you she weren't finished with us."
Raggetti stared at the pale sky and nodded,
"Aye. Maybe. But she seems in calm enough mood." He squinted at his friend, "But for how long?"
"Who knows, depends on what she is about this time." He shivered and looked at the flat sea, "just as long as she ain't planning another one of those whirly things." Pintel cast a suspicious eye towards the flat calm of the sky, "and no rain." He added bitterly.
But neither rain nor maelstrom appeared, and for half a day the two ships sat becalmed at just a cannon shot's distance from each other. Then, without warning the wind picked up, strengthening as suddenly as it had fallen, catching the sails of the Pearl and sending her surging across the growing swell, as behind her the galleon began to move. The darkening sky warned of the coming storm, the severity of it spoke in the tattered flags of black cloud that raced towards them and the yellow light that bathed the horizon. Both ships battened hatches and began to run from it, the wind straining canvas and whipping the wave tops into frenzy. The Pearl had the advantage of speed and outpaced her follower with ease; the last they saw of the Spaniard was her masts outlined against the lightening now flashing a warning on the horizon.
There was no following the white ship any longer, for the storm now stood sentinel between them.
***
They spent the next day bickering about who would go and search and who would stay behind, or rather Elanor and Jack did, Gibbs took refuge in a long boat with a bottle of rum. Occasionally he raised his head to watch his two captains striding about the deck or locked toe to toe in close combat, and while it was true that their voices were never raised that didn't make the arguing any less uncomfortable. Though the lady held the aces she chose not the play the hand, Gibbs could not be sure of why, and so neither of them carried the day and in the end they decided all three of them would go. Ariadne, her ghost, would be left to guard the Dawn Chaser.
Elanor had always suspected that it would be like this, unless she was willing to use force to have her way, but she'd achieved her objective and rammed some caution down his throat.
For herself, she was taking no chances this time, she intended to stay in constant contact with the ship; unlike Tortuga this island was unpopulated and there was no need to fear being overheard. Jack had understood the what, if not the how, and had agreed to square it with Mr Gibbs should it become necessary. Though there was no sign of other ships they may yet have to run. They had lost the ship she took to be the Black Pearl more than a week ago, but she doubted that Barbossa or any other pursuers there might be would give up so easily. Yet somehow she doubted they would be found, there was something very strange indeed about this location though should not have explained what it was that made her feel it to be so.
As she watched Jack loading ropes into a long boat she wondered why she had said nothing of the sighting of the Black Pearl; she had told herself it was because he wouldn't like the possibility of her blowing holes in his ship, but as the moment to set off approached she wondered if she was being honest with herself. But then she wasn't the only one holding back was she? She'd feel a lot easier about this business if she had any idea what it was that Jack was holding back on. Despite all her efforts of the previous evening, including the offer of a bottle of rum, she had been unable to persuade him to confide whatever it was that was eating at him.
Even asking outright had got her nowhere.
"What is it Jack? Had a change of heart?" she had asked him.
"What!" he didn't look at her but raised a hand and stroked his moustache, a sure sign of his uncertainty.
She'd leant beside him at the rail, her own eyes fixed on the island now fading from sight with the approaching night.
"Changed your mind about trying for whatever it is that island is hiding?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
"What is what?"
"You've been standing here for more than two hours, just staring. You've not eaten anything, you've not touched the rum and you've not said a word to Mr Gibbs or myself. So come on, give."
"Give what?" he looked confused.
She sighed,
"Tell me."
"Tell you what?" he frowned at her, "What would you have me say?"
"What ever it is that's bothering you."
He looked away from her,
"I haven't said anything is."
"You don't need to." She shot him a sideways glance, "Mr Gibbs is concerned, says he hasn't seen you this quiet since the return from the locker."
"Does he now?" Jack sounded both dismissive and angry at the same time. "Maybe he should be a little less ready with his confiding."
She shook her head,
"No he shouldn't. I'm captain of this ship and I have a right to know anything that may affect her safety."
Jack shot her a cold eyed look at that,
"I'm not your crew."
"Did I say that you were? But you are one of the crew just as I am. If something is amiss, and that something might put the ship or anyone aboard in jeopardy, then I have a right to know." She turned around, looking in towards the deck, her head tilted so that she could watch him, "you'd expect no less if this were the Pearl."
He gave one of those complicated shrugs, or it might just have been a shiver at the mention of the locker, or the chill that was developing in the night air. Jack was still in shirtsleeves; the linen pale in the rail lights, and the hairs on his forearm were raised as if against the cold. In the glow of the deck lights he looked strained and uncertain. The kohl he had applied that morning turned his eye sockets to deep shadow, seeming to magnify the size and luminance of his eyes, while his hair was matt black against his shirt. In this half light his skin seemed paler, throwing the curve of his lip into deeper relief while milking the brand on his forearm of some of its startling clarity. She watched it pale further as he clasped his hands together on the rail and she wondered, for a moment, if the pain of that still haunted his nightmares.
"I'm not putting anything in jeopardy at all," he said eventually.
Elanor's eyes moved back to his face,
"Aren't you? Tomorrow we are setting off on a risky, not to say stupidly dangerous, operation at your behest. I'd like to be assured that you are in whatever passes for your right mind before we start," she eased her hip more comfortably against the rail, " even if you won't be by the end of it." Her tone was all resignation.
He turned towards her and gave her a cold and glittering smile,
"How would you know? Me mind. The difference that is?"
She gave the impression of thinking about that for a moment then she crossed her arms and looked up towards the sky,
"Damn! Knew there was a flaw somewhere."
His smile became warmer and more amused before he turned away.
"All too often is luv." He looked back towards the island, "all too often is."
"So what's the flaw this time?"
"Nothing that I know of," he half turned back and quirked and eyebrow at her,
"Your ghost think different does she?" His eyes were hard and bright. "After all I've only your word for what she says."
"You doubt it? My word I mean. Is that what the silence is all about?"
He opened his eyes wide in a mocking gesture of surprise,
"Now why would I do that?" he drawled. "When your life is so open for all to see." He edged closer to her, fingers straying towards her wrist, hovering above the surface of her skin, "Why would I doubt the word of someone so slack tongued, so free with their confidings, or so obviously above board. Eh?"
"Why indeed?"
He turned fully around, leaning on the rail, his hand still extended towards her and his head tilted as if to see her face the better against the low rays of the dying sun.
"What is your story Elanor? You know enough of mine, but what do I know of yours?" He gave a small, apparently disgusted, toss of his head, "No more than when you hauled me from the water. Here I am about to put the fountain of youth into your strong, yet fetching, hands, and what, when all is said and done, do I know of you?"
She looked at him in silence for a moment, then down at his hand and extended her own, fingers up, to just touch the tips of his.
"You know that I didn't leave you die when it would have been easier for me to have done so, and that I put a small fortune into your hands because you said we needed it."
He straightened abruptly but she ignored it,
"You know that I came back for you when I had no need to." She looked up and met his eyes levelly, "not because I felt guilty, not because you had something I wanted, not because the world needed you, but because I was alone and I missed you." She said quietly, knowing the risk she was taking even as she said it.
The shock she saw in his face had been expected, but not the flash of hurt. He let his hand drop as if contact with her burned him,
"Mr Gibbs talks too much," he said softly and with a twisted and bitter smile.
"Mr Gibbs is your friend, and he trusts me because you tell him to. It's true he doesn't always watch his tongue, " she smiled ruefully, "certainly not when he's had a swallow or three of rum, but I'd not use his stories against you. For his sake if not for yours or mine."
Jack sighed and turned away to stare back towards the shadow of the island,
"Mebbe. But it's a one sided conversation Elanor, as always; you and your ghost hold your own counsel, yet you rob me of the right to do the same."
She matched his sigh,
"What would you have me do Jack? Tell him to be quiet? Or disbelieve everything he says? What would that gain you when the stories are still told? Seems to me that you are happy enough to have the tales spread in general, just not to me. Why would that be? Would you have me think less of you? Is that what you see as safety? That I take you for every kind of rogue you hint at. He speaks of a better man than you tell of."
He just shrugged at that, letting the silence between them stretch; only when she, too, shrugged and made to turn away did he speak again,
"Are there any who would miss you Captain Cavendish? Are there those who somewhere will grieve your loss?"
When she said nothing he turned and lounged against the rail in challenge, lifting his chin and sending her a smile of velvet coated steel,
"Or am I not permitted that question."
Elanor turned back to face him,
"I can't tell you what I don't know Jack."
That brought another look of shock and something close to guilt to his face, before he smiled more softly and swept her a half bow,
"Then forget that I asked."
"Why? If you want an answer I'll try for one."
Curiosity flared in his eyes and he edged closer, but his face was kind,
"I'd not force that which you are not willing to give. It can wait."
Elanor let her eyes drift towards the darkening sea.
"No it can't. There are things I cannot tell you so I suppose I owe you what I can. Tomorrow might be too late for one or the other of us."
She drew a deep breath,
"Will there be those that grieve for me if I never return Captain Sparrow? Probably not."
She felt him go unusually still and she turned to look at him with a weary smile,
"Those who would have done so are already dead. My parents, and a brother, all departed this veil of tears before me. As for the others?" Her smile twisted, "oh there will be plenty of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth I expect, even by those that never said as much as good day to me. People are good at that in my world. It's what passes for care and duty and kindness. Parade what you claim to feel, say the right words, shake your fists at the heavens and wring your hands, and maybe no one will notice that you don't actually feel much at all."
Jack was staring at her wide eyed now, but she avoided his look and gazed up towards the topsail,
"There may be one or two who will down a drink in my name and remember me and times we shared, maybe even wish there had been more of them. But I'll just be another fifteen minute wonder, or maybe a day's if the announcement of my demise comes at a time when the rest of the world is less than usually homicidal."
She dropped her eyes to his,
"There, does knowing that make you feel better?"
For a moment he started at her speechless, then he reached into a shadow and pulled out the bottle of rum, with a flourish he drew the cork with his teeth and held it out to her with an over bright smile that didn't displace the shadows from his eyes,
"That it does darlin'," he said cheerily, pushing the bottle into her hand and indicating that she should drink, "I've been awake at nights wonderin' if I was keeping you from the bosom of a lovin' family or the bed of a needy spouse." He nodded, fingers fluttering towards himself in emphasis, "Now I can rest easy, for it seems that you're no better provisioned in those quarters than I am meself."
He edged closer and leant in towards her, his cheek nearly touching hers. Elanor looked sideways at him as he slid an arm around her shoulders, seeing the spark of devilry in his narrowed eyes and the smile tugging the side of his mouth. She suppressed a smile of her own and spoke with a put upon air,
"Now you are going to say something outrageous aren't you?"
His eyes opened wide again,
"Me? Never! Well brought up I was, I assure you. Never been one to step across the line with a lady, at least not uninvited. Ask Mr Gibbs."
Elanor bit her lip; it was getting harder to hold the smile at bay,
"I'm sure," she said, " but I think I need to a little fortification, anyway," she took a swig of rum and grimaced at the taste of it, then cast him another sideways look; his smile was still in check but his eyes were dancing. She took another swallow and inclined the bottle in his direction,
"now just get on and say whatever it is you are planning."
Jack adopted a hurt look and tightened his arm around her shoulders,
"Only wanting to be reassuring luv," he patted her arm gently and lowered his voice to a confiding level,
" you see, you being a wealthy woman and all, captain of a fine ship no less," his free hand swept a circle encompassing the decks, "well friended by your ghost and able to scoop riches from the seas, and so being totally without need of lace or clergy; I can say, with hand on heart, that should you, in the not having of one, feel the need for one, a family bosom that is, you have only to say the word and I'll see what I can do in the way of provision. And I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! So no worries."
On the far side of the ship Gibbs wondered what it was that had sent his two captains, after a day of snarling, into such paroxysms of mirth.
***
They left the Chaser as the first tendrils of dawn smoked the night sky, the three of them in two boats well stoked with picks, ropes, grapples and various paraphernalia that Jack had not bothered to explain. There were rations for two days in the bottom of the boat, including, at Jacks insistence, charcoal, and water for five; where they were going would be even hotter than the surface. Tucked inside her shirt Elanor was carrying a few little additions of her own along with Ariadne's pictures of what lay before them. A two way communicator was firmly fixed into her shirt, while a backup was hidden in her belt beside the ever present tasar.
She had spent the last hour before sleeping, and after a somewhat surreal game of tag around the decks with Jack and his rum bottle, or rather the run bottle she had refused to return to him unless he explained his remarks regarding families, something he seemed loath to elaborate on, in deep conversation with Ariadne,
"I can't see any way we can do it with the tools that Gibbs bought at Tortuga. Not without a team of men digging in relays, even then it would be dangerous work. But he won't admit it and he isn't going to give up."
"Nor are you." Ariadne stated.
Elanor smiled ruefully at that,
"Well no, I admit that the whole situation is rather intriguing. We both know that underwater mountain is more than a little left field. It simply shouldn't exist. Yet it does." She wrapped her arms around herself and dropped her chin onto her chest, "Everything around this place is weird, and every instinct tells me so yet I can't see why."
"The scans are clear." Ariadne said calmly " but I am aware that there are anomalies that need to be explained."
"Such as?"
"The water temperature is higher than observed elsewhere, it may be a microclimate effect but as yet I have been unable to trace the reason for it. The tidal forces are slightly stronger than I would expect in an area of water as shallow as this, yet there appears to be no scouring of the reef. The scanners, too, seem to experience some calibration problems in the area ten miles out in a circle around the island."
"Do they? Not sure I like the sound of that!"
"Nothing that interferes with their ability to track objects, but there is some distortion. Then there is the space under the island, that may explain all the other irregularities but until we know what it is we can't be sure."
"So you want to know too!"
"I will agree that the information might have value in the future."
Elanor thought about that for a moment,
"So we go ahead, but you are going to have to do some of the work, that's too much rock to clear by hand in this heat."
"I agree that is the most effective option."
"But can you get the right angle? We can't bring the Chaser any closer; her draught is too great to get across the reef in safety. I suppose we could cut a hole through but there is no way of knowing what the knock on effects might be."
"Cutting a hole in the reef must be the last resort," Ariadne agreed, "but my calculations suggest that if we raise the wand to its full height the angle should be sufficient to give the depth needed."
Elanor sighed and rubbed her tired eyes,
"Well there's no one to see other than Jack and Mr Gibbs, and what's a little more ghostly magic between friends. Though it shows a more of our hands than I'd like."
"Either you trust him or you don't," Ariadne made no pretence of not knowing who was the issue, "Understanding a little more of what's at stake may help matters."
Elanor remembered the look on Jack's face as he had stood at the rail and wasn't so sure. But in the end she had agreed and left Ariadne to make the calculations while she went to her bunk.
She dreamed of home and of people lost long before she set sail.
***
They travelled in silence, she and Gibbs in one boat, Jack in the other, each wrapped in their own thoughts. As the distance between them and the ship grew so did Elanor's sense of unease, for it felt as of the world around them was watching, and holding its breath while it did so.
The boats grounded landed with barely a shudder as the first rays of the sun emerged from the mists of the horizon, driving deep into the softly shelving white sand, impossibly white now she stood upon it. It was already warm to the touch, even this early, and it was not hard to imagine it possessing the fiery heat that Jack had described later on in the day.
By the time they had unloaded the boats the sun was already rising above the horizon, lightening the blue of the sea and showing darting shoals of fish in the shallows. With unspoken agreement they dragged the supplies across the rocks and scrub and into the shade of the few trees the island possessed, then hauled one of the boats in the same way; the other they turned upside down on the edge of the surf before draping it with what little seaweed the night tide had deposited on the sand. It was poor enough disguise this close to but from a distance it might be just enough to hide their presence if Ariadne had to leave them stranded.
In the shade of the stunted trees they took stock while they recovered their breath. Elanor handed copies of Ariadne's chart to the two men seeing the frowns grow as they realised the magnitude of the difficulties and uncertainties ahead of them.
"We need to widen the channel but as you can see it's not straight," she trailed her finger down the line of the fissure.
Gibbs looked horrified,
"That's days of diggin' ma'am and with just the three of us and the heat and all I doubt that we can do it."
"Not with picks and shovels," Jack agreed, "but we've powder, once we meet the line then we can blast our way through."
Gibbs shook his head,
"Noisy though, and there's nowhere to shelter while we do it. And what if it goes wrong? Too much or too little and we could block the tunnel, or make it too unstable to be able to get out again."
He squinted at Elanor from under lowered brows,
" One hundred feet down you said ma'am that's a lot of rock above us to collapse."
"Have to do it slowly," Jack agreed, "can't risk disturbin' things too much, it might let the sea in."
Jack stared at the plans for a moment longer then looked across at Elanor,
"You're too quiet, you're thinking something. I can hear it."
She smiled at him.
"No powder. There's another way, safer. We open up this fissure to here, "she pointed, then we dig a narrow hole here, "she pointed again, "and then," she sat back on her heels and looked at the two men squatting in front of her, "we let Ariadne do it."
For a moment they stared at her in disbelief then Jack shook his head,
"Elanor, it a little early in the day to be havin' a touch of the sun! The ship is half way across the bay, with a reef between it and us. How is your ghost goin' to do anything when you told me yourself that she can't come ashore?"
Elanor smiled and rolled up her copy of the plan then got to her feet.
"Leave that to me. For the moment I suggest we get to work, there is still a lot to do before Ariadne can take over."
With that she stripped off her coat, took a pick from the pile of goods stacked in the shade and started across to the shelf of rock that hid the narrow entrance to whatever it was that lay below them. Jack and Gibbs watched her go in silence but made no move to follow. After a moment or two she turned around and stared at them,
"Well what are you waiting for?" she demanded. "Sooner we start, sooner its done."
They exchanged a wary look then selected their own pick and shovel and crossed to join her.