Voyage 2 - The water of life

The players

Jack Sparrow – a pirate captain and a smart man, with a taste for rum, long hair, long words and even longer plans

Elanor – a ship’s captain and a smart woman, with similar tastes - except that she’d rather have brandy

Ariadne – a ship’s ghost – well maybe – very smart but with no tastes at all

Calypso – a sea goddess with a weakness for pirates, a wicked sense of humour and no sense of fair play

The Lady – herself

Barbossa – a pirate captain and a hard man with a liking for big hats, and a fear of inescapable curses and impending doom

Various crew – all of whom who had been loved by their mothers but possibly no one since

A monkey

A parrot

Chapter 18 Getting under way

They were not alone

The Spanish ship was twice the size of the Intrepid and there was no denying that the sight of her billowing canvas appearing on the horizon, and the view of her serried ranks of gun ports as she came into glass range, produced anxiety in both the officers and the crew. Britain and Spain might not be technically at war, but it was very much a technicality, and no one had any doubts that the Spanish captain would be looking for any excuse to engage. Yet that assumption proved to be wrong for the larger ship appeared strangely disinclined to close on them, while being clearly interested in their actions and concerns.
"They know then, and they think that we know where Sparrow is." Hathaway muttered to himself as he watched the Spanish ship tack to pace them. "That, or they have come to the same conclusion as ourselves and are searching for the Black Pearl too."
Groves didn't comment, but anxiously watched the ship though his glass.

The captain stared at the new arrival for a moment longer then turned, speaking low so that only Groves, the officer closest to him could hear.
"But how much do they know? Were there any sign of them in Tortuga?"
"No sir," Groves replied in similarly low tones, "But if the Governor's suspicions are correct then they would have gone to some lengths to not to be seen by us. But we heard no rumours of their presence."
Captain Hathaway gave a small laugh,
" But then the occupants of Tortuga would not pass on such information, not if they thought to make double the bribes by not doing so."
"True sir."

Hathaway stared at the horizon beyond the Spaniard and chewed his lip for a moment,
"We will have to abandon our pursuit of the Black Pearl for a while. A pity but their Lordships would have my hide if I led the Spanish in any way at all towards Sparrow."
With a sigh he raised his voice slightly,
"Change course Mr Barron, steer for Isle de Palo, we'll take on fresh water." He dropped his voice again, "that's as good a reason for us to be here as we are likely to find. Let's just hope they follow us; it would be most unfortunate if they found the Black Pearl before we do."
He chewed his lip again,
"I wish we knew who was her captain at this moment, not knowing who is at her helm makes predicting her actions somewhat difficult."
Groves nodded,
"Aye sir."
That earned him a hard look,
"You are sure you don't know who her captain is?"
Groves met his captain's eyes levelly,
"No sir. But it's not Sparrow, I am sure of that."
Hathaway looked at him for a moment then turned his eyes back to the sea,
"Does anyone else know about this business?"
"That's a question no one can answer sir. At least no one except Sparrow." Groves said. " Lord Beckett called him a skilled adversary, and coming from him that was a rare compliment."

Hathaway considered that in silence for a moment then he gave Groves a wry smile,
"A pirate who a schemer like Beckett thought a worthy opponent? Dear me Mr Groves, it would appear that their lordships somewhat underestimated the problem we face." He nodded towards the following ship, "Keep a watch on that Spaniard and let me know if she turns away."
With that he sauntered away towards the helm.
Groves watched his retreating back for a while then opened his spyglass and did as instructed,
"Indeed they have sir, but then they never met Jack Sparrow," he muttered.

The crab that had suddenly appeared by his right foot skittered away into the shelter of a coil of rope as he shifted his weight. Once hidden it slowly it opened and closed its claws several times, eyes flicking from Groves towards the sea. No one took any notice of it for the clicks of its claws were only audible to the two other crabs currently hiding in the shadow of the wheel. Out at sea the same number of crabs repeated the performance as they watched the galleon's crew and listened to the muttered conversations of the captain and helmsman.

In the waters around the two ships a goddess looked out through the crab's eyes and wondered what the Lady was about now. The temptation to anger was pressing for seas were hers again and she would not surrender them, not for anyone. She could take these ships and men, but they would just send more and she would find no answers in the sinking of them. For the moment she would trust to the Lady and her captain, and to witty Jack.

***

They spent the last hour before the tide turned loading the long boats with Gibbs purchases of the last week. Ben brought it to the cliff path in the cart, the mules hooves wrapped in sacking to avoid making any noise, but it was many a backbreaking journey up and down the steep slope before everything was loaded and they were ready to leave.

By this time the last of the storm clouds were gone and the first lightening of dawn could be seen and there had been no time for lengthy goodbyes, even had anyone been so inclined. Gibbs had exchanged a few quiet words with Polly, a gold coin or two changing hands as they did so, while Ben had touched a finger to a forelock in both Jack's and Elanor's direction and wished them God speed. Sally had flung herself at Jack, grasping him around his neck and demanding that he be careful; Jack had responded with a laugh and a squeeze of her waist before kissing her lightly. Then he had swept her a bow, disengaging himself in the process and swaggered down the path, coat skirts swinging and his scarf ends fluttering in the still gusty wind. With a roll of her eyes and a nod to Ben and his mother Elanor followed after him.

At the base of the cliff the two boats waited, bobbing on a lively swell. Dawn's hold on the skies was growing and the first rays of the rising sun were slanting over the water, though in the shadow of the overhang the sea still appeared dark and cold looking. To her surprise Jack had strode away from her with a wave of his hand in the direction of the closest of the longboats, steering Gibbs into the other and clambering in after him. She shrugged and wondered briefly what it was he wanted to say to the man out of her earshot, or whether he wanted to see how she would fare with a boat on her own. Either way she was glad enough of the time alone and a chance to think.

The pull to the ship was not easy, for it had been sometime since she had rowed a loaded long boat and the strains of the last twenty-four hours were beginning to make themselves felt. The only consolation for her aching muscle and sore eyes was that the two men must have been feeling even worse; Jack certainly had had no sleep this night.

As she rowed she thought about their conversation on the cliff. The idea that at least two nations were on Jack's tail was not comforting, and she couldn't console herself with the idea that they would soon give up. The politics of the situation were not lost on one who came from a world well used to an arms race, and there could be little doubt that in the minds of those involved that that was what this was. That Jack should be in the middle of it did not surprise her over much, even though she found the nature of the arms at stake still a little hard to believe. Elanor wished that she was sure that she had reached the bottom of Jack's shifting stories, for, though they remained the same in essence each time he told them to her, there was no denying that crucial details seemed to appear and disappear like a stage ghost. Elanor was aware of a very powerful desire to consult Ariadne and her never changing logic.

As the shore retreated and they left what passed for normal life behind, as she finally embarked on the true start of their search for this fountain, her doubts were growing, and not least about how well Jack would survive the searching. This business about the heart had reminded her just how much trauma he already had buried beneath the swagger. She looked across at the other long boat, its two oarsmen making good time despite the fact that it was loaded with the heavier items for their cache of supplies, and wondered what exactly it was that Jack was saying to Gibbs.

Elanor knew that if it came to a showdown between Jack and her then Gibbs would stand at Jack's back without hesitation and that didn't worry her, npt while she knew that Ariadne would stand at hers. But she rather liked Mr Gibbs and his strange mix of stolid and stalwart pragmatism and superstition, and she would not like to have to harm him. Certainly she would not like to be the one responsible for making it impossible for him to return to Tortuga. She narrowed her eyes in the direction of man at the front of the boat, his mass of hair lifting and shifting in the wind, scarf ends streaming behind him, and wondered what it was that he was cooking up at the moment.

***

Jack occupied the journey to the Dawn Chaser in cross examining Gibbs about what had happened to him in Tortuga, and then explaining a little more of the situation as he assessed it. Horror had dawned unabashed in Gibbs face as Jack spoke, for Gibbs had once served in the navy and the consequences were not lost on him.
"Spanish! Lord love us Jack what have you got yourself into this time?"

Jack sighed in mild annoyance and looked up towards the silver pink clouds, wondering, and not for the first time, why it was that everyone saw his hand in anything undesirable; when it was clear to anyone with a jot of sense that most people were more than capable of getting themselves into the mire without any help from him at all.
"Nothing! 'Tis all Beckett's doing. I would have been quite content to use the heart to save me life and the Pearl. Not me that wanted to control the seas mate. Never been that interested in power meself."
Gibbs had considered that then nodded,
"Aye I suppose that be true. But how did the Spanish get to be caught up in this? Navy I can understand, with all those ships that Beckett commandeered, well 'twas clear as a new morn in summer that someone was bound to find out what it was all about. Sailors and soldiers being curious persons, as they are."
Jack nodded in return, but sombre faced,
"Just as Elizabeth's father did." He pulled savagely hard on his oar for a stroke or two, "Beckett no doubt intended the same fate to befall any one who asked too many questions. At least once he had carried the day he did. But he didn't carry it, and yet someone who survived the wreck of the Endeavour knew and reported back to their lordships of the admiralty," he nodded towards Gibbs, "and brought the navy down on us."
He rested on his oars for a moment, his brow creased in thought,
"Though its unusual for them to react with such speed," he shrugged and resumed rowing, "but it would seem that there was a least one other person who knew and somehow they encountered the Spanish."

He cast a look behind him to see how much distance remained to be covered, then looked back at Gibbs with a frown,
"Maybe a pirate, one of Sao Feng's lot perhaps. Probably bartered the knowledge for their lives; can't blame them for that. But if the Spanish know then they won't want leave it to the British to take the prize, now will they? There's no love lost there."
Gibbs shook his head,
"Aye that be true enough. But what could they know Jack? What's to know? About the heart? That what you be thinking? But if they know that then they must know that Jones is dead. So why the bother? Young Will now, he's not Jones, he'll not go a'huntin ships for them."
A set look came into Jack's face, a cold and hostile look that Gibbs had rarely seen there for Jack was a forgiving kind of cove, too much so for his own good in the past. But maybe not this time, an idea which Gibbs found worrying, just as he found the tight and chilly tone of Jack's voice.
"Will he not? Seems to me that young master Turner was every bit as easily swayed to betrayal as Jones when it was his own heart that was involved. Was willing enough to betray us all for his faithless father, even his ladylove. Quite happy to leave me in hell, though he'd risk all to get his hands on me ship."
Jack cast Gibbs a look as dark as any he had ever seen on his face,
"No doubts of it mate, William would have been happy to trade everyone one of us to Beckett for his father and his girl. Certainly he would have sailed away with the Pearl and left me standin' on the locker shore had it not been for the numbers against him, and the sight of his beloved murderess's guilt."

Gibbs rowed in silence for a while, thinking about that meeting in the locker and about Jack's words and the softly dangerous tone of his voice, strange and unusual as if the shadow of someone else had clouded it. But however forgiving a man Jack might be Gibbs could see why he would feel that way if the truth be told, and only too well. Which left another question,
"Then why'd ye save him Jack? Could have let him die on the Dutchman, could have taken her captaincy for yourself."
The cold and harsh look disappeared and Jack shrugged, looking down at his hands on the oars,
"Aye I could. But none of our hands were clean in that business and was my error that allowed Jones that sword thrust, I'd not kill the lad for a the chance of a moments triumph over Jones."
Jack's hand left the oar and strayed to the macabre object on his belt for a brief moment,
"Seems that Teague was right, bastard though he may be, it is living with yourself forever that's the trick. Or rather finding the bits of yourself you can live with forever."
He back looked towards the white ship, now obviously closer than she had been, and smiled faintly,
"Jones was a salutary example of that, and I don't have the face for tentacles."

For a moment there was quiet between them as both remembered the man who had sailed with the Dutchman; then Jack sighed again, weariness and reluctant acceptance twined within the sound,
" I'd not condemn the lad for doin' what he saw as right by him."
Gibbs cast a hard look towards his companion, but the set expression was gone from Jack's face, replaced by a softer, far away, and altogether sadder look, a look echoed in his voice when he spoke again.
"A man will do things to forestall that final judgement that he'd not expect of himself, maybe, then, he'll do the same for someone else's judgement, if matters are so arranged."
Gibbs nodded but said nothing, himself he was not so sure of that, having never seen it, but now did not seem the time to say so.

"So you think that Will would be willing to do their bidding if they were to gain control of his heart?" he said eventually.
Jack pulled harder on the oar as if the action would drive the thoughts away.
"Mebbe. Mebbe not, suspect that it would depend upon the circumstances."
Gibbs frowned,
"Aye ye might be right enough about that." He shot a hopeful look towards his captain, "But Calypso be free now, and maybe she would not be so willin' to see them get that control."
"Can't count on that mate. Capricious creature Tia Dalma was, see no reason why Calypso should be any different. Anyways I doubt they know of our newly released sea goddess, I certainly hope they don't. Wouldn't be comfortable for them to know all of the cards that are in the deck." He cast another look behind him, "and talking of decks and the owners of them, better not to talk of William to Elanor. She knows of him and the heart, but it's best she knows no more than I've said."
"You told her?"
"Had no choice mate, she's a noticin' kind of a woman."
He looked up at the prow of the Dawn Chaser now towering above them, then shot a wry look back at Gibbs,
"Worst possible kind they are, take it from me, so tread carefully around her."
With that he folded his hands across the oars ands waited, his face a picture of innocence, as Elanor pulled up alongside them.

***

They cleared the bay without being seen, at least as far as they could tell, but even so their departure was not without incident. For Mr Gibbs first encounter with Ariadne was something of an event and it was the only time Elanor had seen him truly angry with Jack. At least so far. But then he had every right to be so; Jack should never have insisted that Gibbs not know of her 'ghost' until they were underway.

Of course if she were honest she was in part to blame, she should not have gone along with Jack's silence on the subject, and she should have known better than simply issue the casual instruction to pull up the long boats as soon as they were aboard. She had not given any real thought to what he would make of the sight of the boats rising from the sea on chains hauled by pulleys that couldn't be seen and were untouched by human hands. She heard his curse, and Jack's somewhat rueful 'Ah, someone you need to be introduced to' and then she left them to it, going below to confer with Ariadne on several pressing matters, such as the need to watch for the Spanish as well as the British navy.

As she opened the hatch door she looked back to see Jack backed against the forward mast, hands raised in supplication or apology, words hurrying from his mouth at a rate of knots, while Gibbs stood arms akimbo, chin jutted, in front of him. Elanor grinned and hurried below, before Jack could call upon her to either take the blame or to explain.

***

"So we must assume that there was at least one survivor of the Endeavour with enough credibility to convince the admiralty that this heart exists and remains a potential weapon. Perhaps another who was taken by the Spanish, or it may be that word of the heart has been passed on by a spy," was Ariadne's summing up of the situation.

Elanor inclined her head, staring down at her boots and the borrowed and threadbare breeches she was still wearing.
"Yes, and they both believe that Jack knows where it is, possibly that he is the only person who does."
"Which will make them very anxious to talk to him. Yes. And yet he knows that Davy Jones is dead."
"And he knows Davy Jones is dead." Elanor agreed. "He'd have to give them William Turners heart if he were to trade."
"Would that be any greater concern to him?"
"I'm not sure. I sense a lot of anger in him, towards both William Turner and Elizabeth Swann, but it hard to judge just how much. For all his swagger and open book posturing he remains a clever and, I suspect, a largely hidden, man. He makes it so obvious that he's a knave and fool, slips so rarely, that it's hard to get past the persona even when you know what it is."
She sighed,
"And of course I'm not the best person to do it, all my instincts are of my time and all his are of his. I'm not sure that we could ever really understand each other. Just how much would he accept their betrayals as all in the line of business and how much would he take personally is not something I feel qualified to judge."

"But if we are to believe him then we accept that he could have taken immortality for himself, and there seems no doubt that he wants that. Yet he didn't. If we believe him. This does not suggest that his level of anger stretches as far as killing Captain Turner."
Elanor rubbed her eyes, not the only part of her body reminding her how little sleep she had had in recent days,
"True, but then it might be that his anger at Ms Swann didn't stretch as far as widowing her on her wedding day."
"Then he will not give up the heart for her sake perhaps." Ariadne suggested.
"She's dead, or so he told me. Not that he was very specific about how or when."
Ariadne was quiet for a moment,
"Then the question then is does Captain Sparrow really know where the heart is," she said finally, "and if so why is he unwilling to trade for it. It is likely that they would give him anything he asked for in exchange for it." Ariadne replied.
Elanor thought about that for the moment then smiled,
"Except the freedom that seems to be his driving principle. He would lose that, in his own eyes at least. They might give him a ship and as much gold as he asked for but they would still control the seas, and that control would include him if he were to continue to sail."

"You must ask him why he is not prepared to trade his knowledge."
Elanor sighed wearily and sank into a chair,
"Does it matter so much?"
"There may be circumstances under which it might matter very much. You must ask yourself these questions, if the Dawn Chaser were to be at risk would you trade Captain Sparrow and his knowledge for safety? Against his wishes perhaps. If you were to be taken would he trade it for your life? Or that of Mr Gibbs? Would he trade you rather than it if he were to be taken by those wanting to know where it is?"
Elanor stared at the bulkhead in horror,
"God Ariadne you do come up with some terrible questions."
"Terrible or not, only you can determine the answers. This ship must not be taken, you understand that, so if escape is not possible then death or trade is the only option you will have and you need to be prepared for the choice. I suspect that Captain Sparrow was not and he has paid the price for it. I would not wish you to do the same."
"No. Nor would I. But why the hell did it have to be me? Of all the ships it could have been that sailed into that abyss why did it have to be me?"
"That is the question asked by all those caught up in interesting times and the dilemma's that make them so interesting. But the real question is why should it not have been?"

Elanor pushed herself to her feet again,
"I just hope that you are right and this is all a fevered dream."
"Indeed. However I am not sure that being a dream will change the impact the choices you make within it will have upon you. However unreal this is you believe in it now, and appear to be in your right mind now, and when it is over you will still know what it was that you chose to do."
"Thank you for those words of consolation Ariadne! I hate to think what you would come up with if you knew how to be brutal."
"Would kindness, of the kind I assume you are suggesting I should show, help you in any way?"
"No of course not, you are right, as ever, however uncomfortable it may be. What would I do without you?"
"Go truly mad in time. Is that not why I am here, in your dream if that is what this is?"
"Probably. But talking of insanity I had better go and see what Jack has said to Mr Gibbs. Or if Gibbs has throttled him by now, it looked like he might think of it. By the way, have you any exception to being thought a ghost for a little while longer?"

***

Gibbs had not throttled Jack; in fact they looked very much in accord as she stepped back out onto the deck.

They were both standing facing the hatch door, Jack lounging against the chart table, a slight smile playing around his mouth and with his arms folded across his chest, apparently relaxed and looking for all the world as like a guest at a fancy dress party. Mr Gibbs stood beside him, hands tucked into his belt and wearing a slight frown that didn't hide his underlying nervousness.

Jack spoke before she time to do more than raise a questioning eyebrow.
"I've been explaining to Mr Gibbs here about your ghost." he said softly.
"Have you now, and what exactly have you explained?"
"That she is the ghost of the ship that was made real when the ship came though this door from the other world."
Jack's voice was light and easy enough but his eyes were positively blazing with unspoken messages, and as she stepped closer she could see that the relaxed posture was nothing more than a pose, for the skin around his eyes and nose was tight and blanched with tension, the tendons of his neck were corded and the muscle in his shoulders and arms was bunched and hard. For a moment she wondered whom he saw as the threat, Gibbs or herself, then she realised that it was nothing more than the tension of his willing her to understand and follow his lead. But what exactly was it that he wanted her to follow? Given that he knew nothing of Ariadne himself.

She flicked a look at Gibbs seeing the wariness in him, the intentness as he stared back at her, and something else too, a sort of relief mixed with respect and wonder. What had Jack been telling him? Only what would reassure him no doubt, what it was that he would want to believe, given that he couldn't deny the ghost. But what would that be? Elanor struggled to recall all that Jack had told her of Gibbs and all that she read of sailors of this time. Jack's eyes were still burning darkly with some message that he couldn't put into words, but that wasn't enough.

Fortunately he seemed to realise that for he spoke again, apparently careless but with a wealth of meaning in the shift of his eyes and the faint inflexions of his voice while yet more emphasis was channelled though his suddenly restless hands,
"I've assured him that a being such as yourself, a captain that has sailed the worlds beyond would not suffer to travel so far and so long alone with a malevolent ghost."
He didn't say 'I dare you?' but the caressing note in his voice, as well as the tight smile on his lips, was a good as doing so.
"Ghost is not the right word. Ariadne is more a spirit than a ghost." She said slowly her eyes fixed on Jack's face. "She is in every fibre of the ship, every rope and every piece of canvas. That is why she can sail the Chaser. She sees everywhere and knows everything that takes place on board."
Elanor looked towards Mr Gibbs,
" She knows the difference between me and you, she will do as I instruct but take no orders from you or Jack unless I say that she may, and only then provided you do not try and harm me or the ship."

"So what form of spirit be she then? Exactly?" Gibbs asked a little nervously, looking up to the spread canvas above them. "The spirit of the ship?"
Elanor smiled, the truth could be no stranger than fiction here,
"Not exactly. Once she was, but now she is more than that. Ariadne has absorbed all of the memories, all the hopes and fears and dreams and ideas of all the worlds we have sailed though. They are a part of her and she is a part of the ship, the two are one and cannot be separated.
Elanor caught sight of Jack's raised brows, he was watching her with his head tilted, a slight frown on his brow and a considering look in his eyes, and she looked away quickly before he could question her.
"Aye ma'am. I see." Mr Gibbs said as he stared around him. Then he looked back at her, "and what of yourself? Jack says you've sailed seas beyond the map but are ye mortal or no?" his tone and words were respectful but there was a watchfulness in his eyes that betrayed his concern.
Elanor was not prepared for the sudden spurt of grief and anger that innocent question brought and it was a moment before she could reply,
"Mortal enough, though maybe not human any longer," the words sounded calm though she didn't feel it, "Not as human as you perhaps," she cast a challenging look towards Jack, "but maybe as human as Captain Sparrow here, given that I've not returned from the dead."

Jack smiled a wary smile
"Not an angel then."
"No, not an angel, any more than you are."
His smile became wider and he looked towards Gibbs,
"So you see Mr Gibbs, no reason to fear. The Captain's ghost'll not do us harm."
A flash of irritation passed across his face and he straightened up and raised a finger,
"At least she won't provided... we pay her due homage."
"Homage?" Gibbs sounded nervous again
"Aye homage, a sort of ritual cleansing if you take my meaning."
"Cleansing?"
Gibbs sounded frightened and Elanor had to turn away to hide her smile, realising what Jack was about.
"Aye. That the case is it not Elanor? Have to wash the dust of the world from us when we come aboard. Being as your ghost and your good self are such otherworldly creatures. Can't scatter common clay on these decks." He turned back to Gibbs "Savvy?"

"Oh, aye! I see what you mean," Gibbs said as he gave Jack an uncertain look, "What does it involve this... cleansing."
Jack put his arm around Gibbs shoulders and smiled brightly,
"There's a special waterfall on this ship that does the job." Without releasing Gibbs he cast her an almost limpid look, "Is there not Elanor?"
She stared back at him with appreciation,
"There is indeed," she kept the laughter from her voice with an effort; she too had felt the presence of the fleas since the fight in the alley, perhaps they were the source of Jack's irritation.
His eyes gleamed brighter, the laughter in them was shared and not unkind,
" And special oils and unguents and ..things, are there not?" he said.
"Oh yes."
"Aye, I see." Gibbs nodded his head sagely before concern took over again, "Does it take special words, and fire and dancin'" the last one seemed to worry him the most.
"No, Mr Gibbs," Elanor broke in before Jack could indulge his inner imp any further, "Just water and the oils I will provide. No fire, no drinking blood, no dancing and no chanting."
She narrowed her eyes at Jack in an unspoken warning,
"Nor do we all need to do it together, one at a time is the proper way. Captain Sparrow has done it before and he survived it, as you can see, so there is no need for you to worry."
She smiled reassuringly,
"I'll find you the necessary robe while Jack takes you down there and explains what to do. You go first as you have never done it before, Ariadne knows Jack a little better than you so he can wait."

That earned her a disapproving look that melthd into a smile as he looked towards his friend again
"Follow me Mr Gibbs, and I'll introduce you to the waterfall."

Chapter 19 Material and Immaterial