Chain Letter
Title: Chain Letter
Author: Aquaseamage
Rating: PG
Characters: Will, Elizabeth, James, Andrew, Theo, Gov Swann, Murtogg & Mullroy
Pairing: James/Elizabeth, Will/Elizabeth
Genre: Comedy
Status: In progress
Word Count: 13,400 words for Chapter One and Two
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to Disney.
Summary: Will creates a chain letter, never dreaming how the madness would spread across Port Royal because of it. This is a zany comedy I started a few days ago…
“Can I see you again tomorrow?” Will asked hopefully.
“I’m afraid I have to go out with James tomorrow….” Elizabeth admitted with a sigh as she put down the feather pen she had been using and glanced around the tiny room they were in. Her father would kill her if he knew she was alone with Will in his small bedroom up above the blacksmith shop. It simply was not proper, but she didn’t really care. Besides, they really hadn’t done anything , unless you counted a few simple kisses or the sword fighting lessons. “But be sure to practice your penmanship, so Father will be impressed.”
“It seems that you are going out with him every few days…” Will frowned unhappily. “Why can’t he go chase some pirate and give the two of us more time to ourselves? I don’t like sharing you with him!”
“I guess he caught all of the pirates, except for Captain Jack Sparrow that is.” Elizabeth stood and stretched, her arms reaching upward above her head and she felt her dress tighten around her body from the movement. She caught Will admiring her form and she smiled at him. They had been sitting side by side at Will’s slightly crooked desk for at least an hour and her muscles felt stiff. The desk’s surface was covered by sheets of Will’s attempts to write. “I really don’t think he has anything else pressing while in port and now he has that big fancy office befitting his new rank. All of the paperwork bores him no doubt, so he askes me out often.”
“But you agree.”
“What else am I to do? Father expects me to marry James someday. He says we are a smart match. For him to even consider you, you have to at least know how to read and write. You know that, Will. It’s why I’m teaching you! Now don’t get jealous of the time I spend with James. He’s my friend just as much as you are and he’s not perfect either, you know.”
The unexpected news that the Commodore with his high rank and the great wealth was not perfect was startling to the young blacksmith. “Really? What’s wrong with him?”
“Well, he just doesn’t know how to relax as you do so he is always very formal. I wish he’d loosen up a bit.”
“I wish he’d disappear…” Will muttered as he stared down at his ink-smeared fingers. How did Elizabeth manage to keep herself so free of the sooty black India ink? There wasn’t a single spot on her and here it was smeared all over his fingers, the side of his hand and even on his sleeve! He just wasn’t used to writing. Banging on hot red metal was his thing. The two were very different indeed. But no matter how Elizabeth saw the Commodore’s stiff formal attitude as a flaw, it just didn’t seem so flaw-like to him. It seemed minor in comparison to his lack of schooling, a decent paying occupation and wealth. He didn’t know how much the Navy paid, but it surely was a lot more than a blacksmith earned and Norrington had no doubt been stockpiling it for his future.
“Beg pardon?” Elizabeth gazed at him as she pulled on her cloak.
“Are you going now?” Will asked even though he knew she was. The hour was growing late and she was expected home for dinner.
“Yes, although you know I’d love to stay longer.” Elizabeth headed out the room and down the narrow stairway that led to the blacksmith shop. “And I’m sure you have a lot of work to do as well.”
“I always have work to do.” The air for the moment was perfumed with her sweet scent but once he started the forge up, the scent would be gone; replaced by the acidic stench of melting metal. It was a miracle that the stink never clung to her clothes, but he supposed the walk home must air them out.
“Now I want you to write me a letter. I’ll read it when I come over next time, the day after tomorrow. I think you’re ready for that. We don’t have much time so we need to press on with the lessons.”
“A letter!” Will cried, horrified at the mere idea. As soon as the idea had been announced, all ideas fled from his mind and now it was in an empty state. What would he say? “I don’t know how to write a letter!”
“Oh, but they’re easy. Just start it with “Dear Elizabeth” and write something down. Instead of saying it to me in person, you’ll be writing it. It’ll give you the opportunity to practice spelling, sentence structure and penmanship all at once.”
Will frowned. “I’m not good at spelling…”
“It’s just practice!” Elizabeth promised as she pushed the door open to reveal a wet and muggy day, large raindrops splashing against the cobblestones. Pulling her hood up over her perfect hair, she paused in the doorway and glanced back at him. “I had to practice with the sword, didn’t I? Well, you have to practice, too!”
“I love you!” Will declared as he swept Elizabeth up into his arms and kissed her passionately. Her lips were soft under his and so warm. He wished it could go on like this forever but he knew it couldn’t. Reluctantly, he pulled back and dropped his arms to his sides. And then she slipped through the narrow crack and was swallowed up by the rain, just another gray shadow in a weary world of gray. The shop already seemed deserted and empty of life, even though Mr. Brown was sleeping upstairs in a drunken daze.
“A letter…what in the world could I say in a letter?” Will asked as he headed over to his forge and fired it up. Perhaps some mindless work would give him some idea. He knew writing and reading was important, of course. It was a skill highly prized, as most common folk didn’t even know how to spell their own names. If they were ever required to sign a paper, they just made a mark, any mark and it was good. But the nobility and the wealthier people were different. Their world operated by the written word. The laws were written, stories were written, sales of goods were written, news and history was written….everything was written.
Will banged away at the sword he was forming, red hot flakes flying all about him. “If only this writing thing could get Norrington out of my hair for awhile! Then it would be good! Maybe if I think like Jack…”
What would Jack do? Jack would pull some scam, wouldn’t he? Or maybe create some big fuss, something to keep the good Commodore occupied for a few days, something to interfere with his planned date. Then his duty would demand he cancel and Elizabeth would be free! But it would have to be something legal, so he wouldn’t get in trouble. He was just lucky that the Governor had freed him of the piracy charges when he had rescued Elizabeth from Barbossa’s crew. And now that he thought of it, things have been very dull around Port Royal lately. The trip with Jack had been exciting and now things just seemed extra dull. Did Elizabeth feel the same? He was pretty sure she did. It was hard to go back to one’s dull life after living on the edge and facing death multiple times. Seeing Elizabeth was the only bright spot of gold in his life of dull iron.
Slowly an idea started to form in his mind. It was clever and maybe, just maybe it might work. Either it would be a brilliant success or a miserable flop, there was no ground in between. Of course, he had to make certain that it didn’t lead back to him, as he certainly didn’t want Norrington to know who the letter was from. No, Norrington was too smart. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have risen to Commodore so quickly. His two lieutenants would be better targets for the ill-meant letters. And from there it would spread outward to others, including the time-hogging Commodore.
The young blacksmith paused in his hammering to laugh out loud. The picture that formed in his mind was utterly hilarious. Better yet, it wouldn’t harm anyone. It was just a bit of good fun really, nothing more than a childish prank. And if Norrington was as stiff and uptight as Elizabeth claimed, he would be left utterly confused by it all. He would be annoyed and would run all over trying to stop it. “That should keep you busy.”
The hours passed as Will continued his work, the plan forming in his mind in better detail. Then when he was finished for the day, he went upstairs and put nib to parchment carefully. Ever so slowly the words formed on the paper in a straight line more or less. Some letters were larger than others and there were a few ink spots here and there, but thankfully no telling fingerprint smudges of a novice writer. While the first letter dried, he made a second copy. Digging a coin out of his desk, he flipped it in the air and watched the light reflecting off of its smooth sides and curved edges. It was just a pence, not worth much really, but he needed to hire someone to deliver the two bits of parchment to Fort Charles. Spending a pence would be well worth it if it got him more time with his beloved Elizabeth.
0000
Lieutenant Groves stepped off of the wooden gangplank of the Dauntless and onto the solid ground of Port Royal. Lieutenant Gillette was right behind him. They had been overseeing some repairs to the ship after its disturbing battle with the undead pirates, something that they were both troubled by. Such things were just not normal or natural. It would be good to get back into the solid walls of Fort Charles where things did not go bump in the night.
“Do you have the list of parts we’ll need to finish repairs?” Andrew Gillette asked his friend as they walked towards the dark shape of the towering fort. The sun was setting off to the west in a red haze, the first they had seen of it all day. The cobblestones shone wetly under their buckled shoes and wet drops splashed upwards onto their white hose and knee-pants.
“Yes, I have it right here.” Theodore Groves replied. “I’m uncertain if we have all of these in stock, but I’ll go see the quarters master first thing in the morning. Those pirates did more damage than I thought.”
“Excuse me, Good Sirs!” a high pitch voice called.
Both Groves and Gillette paused to gaze down at the young dark- skinned boy dressed in simple white cotton, his head a mess of curls. The child could be no older than ten if he was a day. A bit of parchment was clasped tightly in one hand, the knuckles white from clinging to it greatly.
“Yes, what is it?” Gillette asked as he already surmised the boy was delivering a message meant for someone at Fort Charles.
“Letters for Gillette and Groves at Fort Charles. They be Lu-ten-ants. Could you give this to them?”
“For us?” Theo asked, surprised. Letters from someone living in town was the last thing he had expected. “We’re Lieutenants Gillette and Groves.”
The boy’s dark eyes widened with surprise and glee at finding his marks on the first try. “Great! Here ya go!”
“Who are they from?” Gillette asked as he accepted the slightly bent and damp letters. It was clear they were on fine parchment, that he could tell at first glance even in the quickly fading light. The paper was smooth in his callused hand and of good thickness.
The boy smiled up at them, all white teeth. “’Tis said it’s a secret!”
Theo’s eyes brightened at that and he poked Andrew in the ribs with his elbow good naturedly. “We must have secret admirers in town!”
“Do you think?” Andrew asked him as he turned the two letters over in his hands as he waved the young boy off. There was no indication of which letter was for who or any writing at all on the outside where a letter would normally be addressed, just the parchment folded in thirds and sealed with a glob of hardened wax.
“Of course! What else could it be?” Theo replied firmly as he bent over to study the two letters in his friend’s hands. “They may be shy about approaching us in person, so they sent us these to break the ice. Is there no clue as to who each one is meant for?”
“None whatsoever.” Andrew handed one to Theo and kept the other for himself. “Perhaps they are invitations to some ball at a manor house! If that’s the case, then perhaps they need not be addressed so specifically at to our names. James has been invited lately to those parties by the dames of the town, you know, thanks to Miss Swann.”
“But they are practically engaged…” Theo commented on the idea. “I think that our names may be inside, on the first line. The ladies would want to introduce themselves before inviting us to balls surely, wouldn’t they? But I do know they love men in uniforms and we do look very sharp in our powdered wigs and Navy finery.”
“Who could they be?” Andrew asked as started at the blank outer side of the mysterious letter in his hand. “Come, let us head to the Fort and read out mail in the comfort of our dry quarters.”
The two walked side by side and passed the marines who were guarding the doors to the Fort. They both had a noticeable bounce to their steps and the dark gloom caused by the undead pirate encounter had totally flown their minds. Eager anticipation reined instead and both were thoroughly enjoying the short wait, like young boys waiting for their birthdays and the unknown presents that would be waiting for them. This was just what they had needed to improve their mood.
Finally they reached their quarters and settled inside. They each broke the wax and carefully unfolded the parchment, their hearts pounding in their chests as to what it may say. Their delight, however, quickly changed to confusion.
To Whom It May Koncern,
Tis letter was started in England in the year 1720 and has ben traveling the world since then. ‘Tis a good luk letter. You must now make 25 copies of this letter and send them to other people. You have 3 days to do so. If you do tis, you will have good luk. If you don’t, then bad luk will be yours! Nothing will go rite and ill fortune will hound your heels!
Now please mak the copies and send them out!
May lady fortune smile on you.
“What the…?” Andrew stared at the letter in his hands and then lifted his gaze to Theo. His hands were shaking visibly, even though he tried his best to hold them still. “Do… do you have what I have, something about good and bad luck?”
Theo nodded silently, his normally cheerful face pale as if a ghost has passed by right before his eyes. Even with the clearly misspelled words, the meaning had been very clear. “If we don’t do as this letter says, we will have bad luck!”
“It’s some leftover curse from those undead pirates!” Andrew nodded in utter agreement as he stared at the crudely written words on the bit of parchment. “Their abnormal state and our contact with them has attracted the supernatural to our door! Why else have we received these letters and not someone else in town? The odds are against that, you know? Why not two of the drunks in the seedy bars by the wharf or some simpleton? I for one do not want ill fortune at my door, not when we have to work on a ship where so many things can go wrong at any moment.”
The two sat silent with grim expressions on their faces as they thought of all of the ways their fellow seamen had died over the years: falling off the rigging to the hard deck, drowning in the freezing sea, being blown apart by cannon fire, stabbed through with a cutlass, dying of scurvy, being crudely injured by falling parts of damaged rigging, being shot and so on…and that didn’t even count the ship sinking in a storm!
“What are we to do?” Theo asked Andrew, who was a little older than he was. “Shall we each make twenty-five copes of this letter and hand them out to others?”
“I don’t see any alternative. And we must do it now, as we may be called to duty on the sea at any moment. We don’t have a moment to lose.” Andrew reached into the desk drawer near his bed and promptly pulled out a stack of parchment, a small bottle of India ink and a quill. Hefting the parchment carefully in one hand, he frowned. “I hope I have enough sheets here. I didn’t expect the need to write twenty-five letters.”
“But what of our report we’re to hand in to James, on the condition of the Dauntless? That’s due today and if we make these copies, then we won’t have time for the report.” But even as the words left Theo’s mouth, he too was digging in the drawer of his own desk. “Where did my quill go? I can’t find it in my desk!”
“See? You have the bad luck already!” Andrew cried as he waved the ill fortune letter in the air before Theo’s nose. “It knows you don’t want to make those copies so now it has stolen your quill!”
“No! It can’t be!” Theo moaned as his eyes widened in horror, his pale face going white as a starched sheet.
“Aye, it is!” Andrew nodded as he settled down at his desk, the ill fortuned letter carefully set in the upper left corner so he could dutifully copy it, bad spelling and all. He intended to even slant the sentences just as they were on the original, just to be safe. When it came to the supernatural, it was best to be as careful as possible. Before he would have laughed it off as sheer foolishness, but now after seeing those undead pirates and their skeleton bodies… “You have best go borrow a quill from someone before you end up undead as well! For all we know, its how those pirates got that way!”
“But…”
“You know those pirates can’t read! They must have received one of these, couldn’t read it, and ignored it and then poof! They were cursed!”
“But I don’t want to be undead!” Theo wailed and started wildly throwing everything out of his desk drawer as he frantically searched for the missing quill. Item after item sailed through the air, crashing either into the wall behind him or onto the floor. He was so intent on finding the quill, that without thinking, he threw the glass ink bottle over his shoulder only to have it shatter on impact with the wall.
“Bad luck…” Andrew commented as he studiously bent to making a flawless first copy. Secretly he was rather pleased, as before he had the bad luck. It still stung that Turner had stolen the Dauntless right from under his nose and then his longboat had been run over by the Interceptor. It seemed to him that Groves always had some secret angel on his side, something that had lifted him above the petty troubles of an officer.
Theo’s eyes suddenly brightened and he spun around on his heel, spitting on the floor and patting himself. “Black spot!”
Andrew lifted his eyes from his half done bit of parchment and stared at his roommate. “What bit of foolishness is that?”
“I read that pirates do it, so I thought it might help me as well.” Theo explained as he carefully stepped over the mess he had made on the floor and headed towards the door. “I’ll be right back. I need to go borrow some supplies from someone…”
“You and pirates!” Andrew scoffed. “You just keep admiring them like that and you’ll end up one, an undead one no doubt! And when that happens, you best find a new roommate as I ain’t sharing no room with a guy that has a skull for a face!”
That was too much for Theo and he fled the room into the relative quiet of the corridor. With his luck, James would pick that day to do a room inspection and then he’d be written up for being a slob. Perhaps his punishment would be a twenty-four or thirty-six hour watch. It was certainly better than kissing the gunner’s daughter, but it was awfully hard staying awake all of those hours. To ward off any evil eyes that may be spying on him, he did the Black Spot spitting ritual again for good measure.
“Theo, what are you doing spitting in the corridor?” A calm and cultured voice questioned. “It’s not becoming for an officer to behave like that. I thought you knew better.”
Oh no!
Heat rose up into Theo’s pale face and he slowly turned to face Commodore Norrington. Of all of the people to get caught by, he was the worst. Why couldn’t it have been Phillip or even one of the Middies? “I … I have misplaced my quill and was going to get another one….”
“And you think spitting on the floor is going to help you acquire a quill?” James asked as a slight hint of amusement lit his green eyes.
“It’s to ward off bad luck?”
James sighed. “Not more pirate nonsense. I have enough of it with my fiancé thinking she’s a pirate. Next she’ll want fencing lessons! I swear, some days she thinks’ she’s a man with running around in borrowed Marine outfits - although I admit she does look very fine in them.”
“You did know she was headstrong.” Theo reminded James, feeling slightly relieved that his commanding officer was apparently willing to overlook his lapse of judgment this once. Still, he felt the doom from the ill-fortune letter breathing down the back of his neck like icy fingers. The clock was ticking and he had to get moving if he wanted to finish those copies and write the report.
“Yes, I did. It’s why I admire her so.” James admitted. “She always knows what she wants and has no problem going after it. And she seems so… free. She doesn’t seem to worry what others think of her. Most women, after being kidnapped by pirates, would be horrified and feel ruined by society’s standards. They would go into hiding and would be ashamed to show their face in town. But it didn’t faze her at all and she admittedly held her own against them, unlikely as that is.”
“Yes, Miss Swann is very strong.” Theo agreed. He whetted his dry lips, in preparation for his upcoming request. “May I borrow some supplies so I may write up the report, James?”
“Of course you may, Theo, on the condition that you don’t do more of that spitting. I don’t want the young and impressionable Middies learning that bad habit.” James smiled and pointed down the corridor in the direction he had just come from. “You know where my office is.”
Thrilled, Theo raced off down the hallway and quickly darted into the office. Taking a big stack of parchment, a bottle full of India ink and a quill, he raced back to the room he shared with Andrew. Upon entering, he almost tripped over his scattered belongs on the floor, but managed to catch his balance and hurried to his desk.
“I already have three copies finished,” Andrew bragged happily. “Just twenty-two more to go! We’re lucky this letter is so short or our hands will be cramping up before we’re done.”
“It may anyway…” Theo said as he settled at his desk, arranging his supplies just so.
“Twenty-five copies are still a lot and who will we give them to?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea…”
000
James was thinking of his upcoming date with Elizabeth and where they would go. Last time they had gone out to listen to some beautifully played chamber music by gifted musicians. He had enjoyed the hour long live concert very much, but he had sensed that his date didn’t care for it very much. Elizabeth had fanned herself expertly as a proper young woman should, but he also had noticed she had fidgeted a bit, too. No doubt the music had bored her.
Chamber music is not very pirate-y at all.
He still couldn’t forget her singing that “Yo Ho A Pirate’s Life For Me” song years and years ago when she had been but a young girl. A lively jig was probably more her style, the stuff that the basic deck crew enjoyed playing in the evening hours after supper and when they were off shift. They could get quiet rowdy, with the loud singing and the boot stomping on the decks. The officers allowed it, of course, as the men needed time to relax and keep their spirits up. But he could hardly take Elizabeth to a common sailors bar!
Here he had a date with her tomorrow and he still didn’t know what they were going to do, mainly because all of the common respectable things would bore her. But what did that leave? A pirate outing of some sort? Could he have something exciting staged to please her, to show that he was willing to try? He thought of how Theo admired pirates and seemed to know a lot about them. Could he use that somehow in his idea? Feeling that he could, James turned on his heel and backtracked the way he had come. He would go seek the aid of his two best friends.
Knocking on Theo and Andrew’s door, he waited for a reply. He heard a muffled cry through the door and odd sounds, as if something was being rapidly swept under the bed. The door flung open just then to reveal a slightly disheveled Theo.
“Come in, James.” Theo said as he headed back to his desk and sat down.
James’ green eyes darted around the room and saw that is was relatively neat and that both had their desks covered in pages of written parchment. “I’m glad to see both of you are working on your reports. That business with Barbossa’s crew was ghastly and we need the Dauntless in top shape as quickly as possible. But for the moment, I have another assignment for you two, a special assignment.”
“Oh?” Gillette turned around in his chair so he could see James. “And what may that be?”
“Well, it’s highly irregular what I’m about to ask you and it shall go no further than this room. Is that clear?”
Theo’s eyes widened in utter surprise. “A secret mission?”
“Yes, a secret mission.” James confirmed. “You know a lot about pirates, Theo, and you both know how my fiancé is obsessed with them.”
“Just as much as you are…” Theo boldly stated. “No one has caught as many pirates as you have.”
“True, I do love catching pirates, but she just likes pirates. Even after her ordeal, I don’t think she realizes what brutal monsters they are. She thinks they go on daring adventures digging up treasures on barren islands and sing songs all day. Oh, and they have exciting sword fights and swing around on ropes from the rigging, no doubt while singing more pirate-y songs.”
“That doesn’t sound like a pirate at all!” Andrew gasped, his letter writing forgotten for the moment. “What do you want us to do?”
“I want you two to dress as pirates and then accost us at sword point while we’re on our date.” James blurted out.
“That’s … that’s …” Andrew started to say.
“Crazy, yes, I know.” James agreed with his first lieutenant. “But all of the normal dates simply bore her and I fear if I don’t change I will lose her to Turner.”
“I think it’s brilliant!” Theo heartily agreed. “Dressing as pirates, I mean.”
“Well, of course you would agree!” Andrew rolled his eyes. “But Turner is just a blacksmith. He couldn’t possibly marry her!”
“But she feels that he is a pirate and that may be enough. Besides, he rescued her and I fear that counts for a lot. Women like that sort of thing I hear. I also fear that she may not care what her father thinks of the matter: she will follow her heart. She is headstrong and not too practical in regards to the future. She is not looking at the big picture or what life being a blacksmith’s wife would entail.”
“It’s certainly not what she is used to…” Andrew agreed. “But maybe she thinks he will move up in society instead of her moving down.”
“Or that Governor Swann will buy him a commission in the Navy.” Theo added.
“That is all I would need.” James frowned at the idea. If that happened, he would have to put up with Turner on a daily basis. It would be far too much to bear; especially should the young man actually win Elizabeth over. Still, there is a certain pleasure in making life tough and miserable for Middies…
“What exactly do you want us to do?” Theo asked as he was already planning in his head where he could quickly acquire pirate clothing.
“Tomorrow afternoon I will take Elizabeth on a beach side picnic. After we are seated and comfortable, you two pirates will come along and threaten us. I will gallantly protect her from the scoundrels with my sword.”
“So you want us to put on a sword fight show for her?” Andrew nodded as he thought it over. “I could do that, but I’m doubtful if I could play a convincing pirate. They’re so carefree.”
“And they do things spur of the moment, without any planning.” Theo added as he thought of how clever Jack Sparrow had been in stealing the Interceptor.
“Just do the best you can…” James eyes drifted to the pages of text on their desks. “And I’ll expect those reports before you turn in for the night.”
Just as James was leaving and closing the door, he thought he heard his two lieutenants groaning loudly, but surely that couldn’t be. By the look of things, they must almost be finished.
000
The next morning a very sleepy Theo headed for the quarter master’s with his list of needed supplies for the Dauntless. Through sheer determination and willpower, both he and Andrew had finished the cursed letters and the reports. They still had to send the dumb letters out to someone, but that wasn’t a problem. Fort Charles held countless red-coated Lobsters and blue-coated sailors. Should he give one to the quarter master? Why not? The man had a cushy job just keeping track of supplies in a huge storeroom. If anyone had time to make twenty-five copies, it was he! He would just leave it on the man’s desk while the man was out checking on the equipment needed.
Upon reaching the man’s desk, Theo handed him the long list and then watched him head off to check the supply book. The supply book rested upon a heavy table and thankfully, the man was facing the other way. Glancing around, Theo slipped one of the twenty-five letters out of his uniform and placed it on the man’s desk. Then he waited patiently.
“We’re short several parts, Lieutenant Groves. We’ll have to order them from the blacksmith. The rest I can have sent over to the Dauntless right away.“
“I’ll order the needed parts, as I have to go into town today anyway.” Theo happily agreed as he thought of his pirate clothes buying trip. What fun that ought to be! He had the good luck already, as he could feel it coursing through his veins. And later, he could be a pirate! Accepting the list of the missing parts, Theo left and headed towards Fort Charles exit.
Approaching the main gate, he saw that the ones on guard duty were Murtogg and Mullroy. They were the most bumbling of the marines, yet were very loyal and steadfast. Should he give them copies of the cursed letter? Did they even know how to read? More important, would they tell James who had given them the letters? Most likely they wouldn’t.
“Here. Some mail came in for you two…” Theo said as he handed each one a copy of the letter. He watched them salute him sharply and then accept the bits of folded parchment. And with that done, he passed through the gate and headed past the Navy piers into town.
000
Peering about and seeing no other officers, Murtogg and Mullroy peeled open the letters and gawked at them.
“Say, what is this all about?” Mullroy asked his counterpart Marine. “It’s speaking about ill fortune and whoever wrote this can’t spell at all.”
“It looks like we got to make twenty-five copies … each.”
“Where we gonna get the paper from?” Mullroy commented as he thought about making twenty-five copies. “I don’t have any and I know you don’t have any either. And I certainly ain’t going to buy any. That stuff is crazy expensive!”
“Well, we do have to guard the Commodore’s Office this afternoon while he’s going to be gone. Surely he has paper.”
“But it’s his paper, not ours.”
“But this is clearly Navy business, like Official Navy Business. Just think, we don’t want bad luck befalling us, do we? That could affect the entire Fort Charles! The Navy is as weak or strong as its weakest member and it not be proper if that be us, so we would be doing it for him, see?”
“I guess so…” Mullroy shrugged, clearly uncertain. “But we better not get caught taking his parchment.”
“We can hide it in our uniforms until we get to our quarters.”
“But who do we send these copies to anyway?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmmmm….it better be someone who can afford paper, that’s for sure!”
“You’re right about that! Not too many around here got paper, unless one steals that weak stuff from the loo….”
“Could never write on that stuff, you idiot! The sharp point of the quill would just tear it! Besides, that stuff is unnatural! I heard it’s from China or someplace like that…”
“Well, with these letters going around even that will be gone. Maybe we ought to stock up after our shift here?”
“Go around stealing loo paper you mean?” Mullroy asked, frowning. “How are we going to explain that?”
“Just say we’re restocking the mens’ room? Who would question us anyway? People these days take loo paper for granted. They don’t miss it until the roll runs empty and there’s not another one available. Soon it’ll be back to using leaves!”
“It’s that bloody Lord Beckett! I heard he made a fortune for his East India Company by bringing loo paper to the Caribbean after it was discovered in China. What else you think he needs all of those big ships for?”
“I thought he sold spices…”
“Sure he does, but think! Spices go on food and food means you need loo paper later!”
“That’s crooked! He’s making money on both ends!”
“Shhhhhhh! I think someone is coming!”
“Look, it’s him! Lord of the Loo!”
“Stop that! You’re making me laugh and we got to look all serious so he won’t suspect anything.”
Both men put on dull expressions and saluted sharply as Lord Beckett headed into Fort Charles. He passed without even glancing at them and both Marines sighed with relief. The last thing they wanted was to get in trouble for calling Lord Beckett the Lord of the Loo.
“We had better take the rest of this shift seriously. Then after lunch, it’s off to the Commodore’s Office.”
TO BE CONTINUED....
Author: Aquaseamage
Rating: PG
Characters: Will, Elizabeth, James, Andrew, Theo, Gov Swann, Murtogg & Mullroy
Pairing: James/Elizabeth, Will/Elizabeth
Genre: Comedy
Status: In progress
Word Count: 13,400 words for Chapter One and Two
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to Disney.
Summary: Will creates a chain letter, never dreaming how the madness would spread across Port Royal because of it. This is a zany comedy I started a few days ago…
“Can I see you again tomorrow?” Will asked hopefully.
“I’m afraid I have to go out with James tomorrow….” Elizabeth admitted with a sigh as she put down the feather pen she had been using and glanced around the tiny room they were in. Her father would kill her if he knew she was alone with Will in his small bedroom up above the blacksmith shop. It simply was not proper, but she didn’t really care. Besides, they really hadn’t done anything , unless you counted a few simple kisses or the sword fighting lessons. “But be sure to practice your penmanship, so Father will be impressed.”
“It seems that you are going out with him every few days…” Will frowned unhappily. “Why can’t he go chase some pirate and give the two of us more time to ourselves? I don’t like sharing you with him!”
“I guess he caught all of the pirates, except for Captain Jack Sparrow that is.” Elizabeth stood and stretched, her arms reaching upward above her head and she felt her dress tighten around her body from the movement. She caught Will admiring her form and she smiled at him. They had been sitting side by side at Will’s slightly crooked desk for at least an hour and her muscles felt stiff. The desk’s surface was covered by sheets of Will’s attempts to write. “I really don’t think he has anything else pressing while in port and now he has that big fancy office befitting his new rank. All of the paperwork bores him no doubt, so he askes me out often.”
“But you agree.”
“What else am I to do? Father expects me to marry James someday. He says we are a smart match. For him to even consider you, you have to at least know how to read and write. You know that, Will. It’s why I’m teaching you! Now don’t get jealous of the time I spend with James. He’s my friend just as much as you are and he’s not perfect either, you know.”
The unexpected news that the Commodore with his high rank and the great wealth was not perfect was startling to the young blacksmith. “Really? What’s wrong with him?”
“Well, he just doesn’t know how to relax as you do so he is always very formal. I wish he’d loosen up a bit.”
“I wish he’d disappear…” Will muttered as he stared down at his ink-smeared fingers. How did Elizabeth manage to keep herself so free of the sooty black India ink? There wasn’t a single spot on her and here it was smeared all over his fingers, the side of his hand and even on his sleeve! He just wasn’t used to writing. Banging on hot red metal was his thing. The two were very different indeed. But no matter how Elizabeth saw the Commodore’s stiff formal attitude as a flaw, it just didn’t seem so flaw-like to him. It seemed minor in comparison to his lack of schooling, a decent paying occupation and wealth. He didn’t know how much the Navy paid, but it surely was a lot more than a blacksmith earned and Norrington had no doubt been stockpiling it for his future.
“Beg pardon?” Elizabeth gazed at him as she pulled on her cloak.
“Are you going now?” Will asked even though he knew she was. The hour was growing late and she was expected home for dinner.
“Yes, although you know I’d love to stay longer.” Elizabeth headed out the room and down the narrow stairway that led to the blacksmith shop. “And I’m sure you have a lot of work to do as well.”
“I always have work to do.” The air for the moment was perfumed with her sweet scent but once he started the forge up, the scent would be gone; replaced by the acidic stench of melting metal. It was a miracle that the stink never clung to her clothes, but he supposed the walk home must air them out.
“Now I want you to write me a letter. I’ll read it when I come over next time, the day after tomorrow. I think you’re ready for that. We don’t have much time so we need to press on with the lessons.”
“A letter!” Will cried, horrified at the mere idea. As soon as the idea had been announced, all ideas fled from his mind and now it was in an empty state. What would he say? “I don’t know how to write a letter!”
“Oh, but they’re easy. Just start it with “Dear Elizabeth” and write something down. Instead of saying it to me in person, you’ll be writing it. It’ll give you the opportunity to practice spelling, sentence structure and penmanship all at once.”
Will frowned. “I’m not good at spelling…”
“It’s just practice!” Elizabeth promised as she pushed the door open to reveal a wet and muggy day, large raindrops splashing against the cobblestones. Pulling her hood up over her perfect hair, she paused in the doorway and glanced back at him. “I had to practice with the sword, didn’t I? Well, you have to practice, too!”
“I love you!” Will declared as he swept Elizabeth up into his arms and kissed her passionately. Her lips were soft under his and so warm. He wished it could go on like this forever but he knew it couldn’t. Reluctantly, he pulled back and dropped his arms to his sides. And then she slipped through the narrow crack and was swallowed up by the rain, just another gray shadow in a weary world of gray. The shop already seemed deserted and empty of life, even though Mr. Brown was sleeping upstairs in a drunken daze.
“A letter…what in the world could I say in a letter?” Will asked as he headed over to his forge and fired it up. Perhaps some mindless work would give him some idea. He knew writing and reading was important, of course. It was a skill highly prized, as most common folk didn’t even know how to spell their own names. If they were ever required to sign a paper, they just made a mark, any mark and it was good. But the nobility and the wealthier people were different. Their world operated by the written word. The laws were written, stories were written, sales of goods were written, news and history was written….everything was written.
Will banged away at the sword he was forming, red hot flakes flying all about him. “If only this writing thing could get Norrington out of my hair for awhile! Then it would be good! Maybe if I think like Jack…”
What would Jack do? Jack would pull some scam, wouldn’t he? Or maybe create some big fuss, something to keep the good Commodore occupied for a few days, something to interfere with his planned date. Then his duty would demand he cancel and Elizabeth would be free! But it would have to be something legal, so he wouldn’t get in trouble. He was just lucky that the Governor had freed him of the piracy charges when he had rescued Elizabeth from Barbossa’s crew. And now that he thought of it, things have been very dull around Port Royal lately. The trip with Jack had been exciting and now things just seemed extra dull. Did Elizabeth feel the same? He was pretty sure she did. It was hard to go back to one’s dull life after living on the edge and facing death multiple times. Seeing Elizabeth was the only bright spot of gold in his life of dull iron.
Slowly an idea started to form in his mind. It was clever and maybe, just maybe it might work. Either it would be a brilliant success or a miserable flop, there was no ground in between. Of course, he had to make certain that it didn’t lead back to him, as he certainly didn’t want Norrington to know who the letter was from. No, Norrington was too smart. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have risen to Commodore so quickly. His two lieutenants would be better targets for the ill-meant letters. And from there it would spread outward to others, including the time-hogging Commodore.
The young blacksmith paused in his hammering to laugh out loud. The picture that formed in his mind was utterly hilarious. Better yet, it wouldn’t harm anyone. It was just a bit of good fun really, nothing more than a childish prank. And if Norrington was as stiff and uptight as Elizabeth claimed, he would be left utterly confused by it all. He would be annoyed and would run all over trying to stop it. “That should keep you busy.”
The hours passed as Will continued his work, the plan forming in his mind in better detail. Then when he was finished for the day, he went upstairs and put nib to parchment carefully. Ever so slowly the words formed on the paper in a straight line more or less. Some letters were larger than others and there were a few ink spots here and there, but thankfully no telling fingerprint smudges of a novice writer. While the first letter dried, he made a second copy. Digging a coin out of his desk, he flipped it in the air and watched the light reflecting off of its smooth sides and curved edges. It was just a pence, not worth much really, but he needed to hire someone to deliver the two bits of parchment to Fort Charles. Spending a pence would be well worth it if it got him more time with his beloved Elizabeth.
0000
Lieutenant Groves stepped off of the wooden gangplank of the Dauntless and onto the solid ground of Port Royal. Lieutenant Gillette was right behind him. They had been overseeing some repairs to the ship after its disturbing battle with the undead pirates, something that they were both troubled by. Such things were just not normal or natural. It would be good to get back into the solid walls of Fort Charles where things did not go bump in the night.
“Do you have the list of parts we’ll need to finish repairs?” Andrew Gillette asked his friend as they walked towards the dark shape of the towering fort. The sun was setting off to the west in a red haze, the first they had seen of it all day. The cobblestones shone wetly under their buckled shoes and wet drops splashed upwards onto their white hose and knee-pants.
“Yes, I have it right here.” Theodore Groves replied. “I’m uncertain if we have all of these in stock, but I’ll go see the quarters master first thing in the morning. Those pirates did more damage than I thought.”
“Excuse me, Good Sirs!” a high pitch voice called.
Both Groves and Gillette paused to gaze down at the young dark- skinned boy dressed in simple white cotton, his head a mess of curls. The child could be no older than ten if he was a day. A bit of parchment was clasped tightly in one hand, the knuckles white from clinging to it greatly.
“Yes, what is it?” Gillette asked as he already surmised the boy was delivering a message meant for someone at Fort Charles.
“Letters for Gillette and Groves at Fort Charles. They be Lu-ten-ants. Could you give this to them?”
“For us?” Theo asked, surprised. Letters from someone living in town was the last thing he had expected. “We’re Lieutenants Gillette and Groves.”
The boy’s dark eyes widened with surprise and glee at finding his marks on the first try. “Great! Here ya go!”
“Who are they from?” Gillette asked as he accepted the slightly bent and damp letters. It was clear they were on fine parchment, that he could tell at first glance even in the quickly fading light. The paper was smooth in his callused hand and of good thickness.
The boy smiled up at them, all white teeth. “’Tis said it’s a secret!”
Theo’s eyes brightened at that and he poked Andrew in the ribs with his elbow good naturedly. “We must have secret admirers in town!”
“Do you think?” Andrew asked him as he turned the two letters over in his hands as he waved the young boy off. There was no indication of which letter was for who or any writing at all on the outside where a letter would normally be addressed, just the parchment folded in thirds and sealed with a glob of hardened wax.
“Of course! What else could it be?” Theo replied firmly as he bent over to study the two letters in his friend’s hands. “They may be shy about approaching us in person, so they sent us these to break the ice. Is there no clue as to who each one is meant for?”
“None whatsoever.” Andrew handed one to Theo and kept the other for himself. “Perhaps they are invitations to some ball at a manor house! If that’s the case, then perhaps they need not be addressed so specifically at to our names. James has been invited lately to those parties by the dames of the town, you know, thanks to Miss Swann.”
“But they are practically engaged…” Theo commented on the idea. “I think that our names may be inside, on the first line. The ladies would want to introduce themselves before inviting us to balls surely, wouldn’t they? But I do know they love men in uniforms and we do look very sharp in our powdered wigs and Navy finery.”
“Who could they be?” Andrew asked as started at the blank outer side of the mysterious letter in his hand. “Come, let us head to the Fort and read out mail in the comfort of our dry quarters.”
The two walked side by side and passed the marines who were guarding the doors to the Fort. They both had a noticeable bounce to their steps and the dark gloom caused by the undead pirate encounter had totally flown their minds. Eager anticipation reined instead and both were thoroughly enjoying the short wait, like young boys waiting for their birthdays and the unknown presents that would be waiting for them. This was just what they had needed to improve their mood.
Finally they reached their quarters and settled inside. They each broke the wax and carefully unfolded the parchment, their hearts pounding in their chests as to what it may say. Their delight, however, quickly changed to confusion.
To Whom It May Koncern,
Tis letter was started in England in the year 1720 and has ben traveling the world since then. ‘Tis a good luk letter. You must now make 25 copies of this letter and send them to other people. You have 3 days to do so. If you do tis, you will have good luk. If you don’t, then bad luk will be yours! Nothing will go rite and ill fortune will hound your heels!
Now please mak the copies and send them out!
May lady fortune smile on you.
“What the…?” Andrew stared at the letter in his hands and then lifted his gaze to Theo. His hands were shaking visibly, even though he tried his best to hold them still. “Do… do you have what I have, something about good and bad luck?”
Theo nodded silently, his normally cheerful face pale as if a ghost has passed by right before his eyes. Even with the clearly misspelled words, the meaning had been very clear. “If we don’t do as this letter says, we will have bad luck!”
“It’s some leftover curse from those undead pirates!” Andrew nodded in utter agreement as he stared at the crudely written words on the bit of parchment. “Their abnormal state and our contact with them has attracted the supernatural to our door! Why else have we received these letters and not someone else in town? The odds are against that, you know? Why not two of the drunks in the seedy bars by the wharf or some simpleton? I for one do not want ill fortune at my door, not when we have to work on a ship where so many things can go wrong at any moment.”
The two sat silent with grim expressions on their faces as they thought of all of the ways their fellow seamen had died over the years: falling off the rigging to the hard deck, drowning in the freezing sea, being blown apart by cannon fire, stabbed through with a cutlass, dying of scurvy, being crudely injured by falling parts of damaged rigging, being shot and so on…and that didn’t even count the ship sinking in a storm!
“What are we to do?” Theo asked Andrew, who was a little older than he was. “Shall we each make twenty-five copes of this letter and hand them out to others?”
“I don’t see any alternative. And we must do it now, as we may be called to duty on the sea at any moment. We don’t have a moment to lose.” Andrew reached into the desk drawer near his bed and promptly pulled out a stack of parchment, a small bottle of India ink and a quill. Hefting the parchment carefully in one hand, he frowned. “I hope I have enough sheets here. I didn’t expect the need to write twenty-five letters.”
“But what of our report we’re to hand in to James, on the condition of the Dauntless? That’s due today and if we make these copies, then we won’t have time for the report.” But even as the words left Theo’s mouth, he too was digging in the drawer of his own desk. “Where did my quill go? I can’t find it in my desk!”
“See? You have the bad luck already!” Andrew cried as he waved the ill fortune letter in the air before Theo’s nose. “It knows you don’t want to make those copies so now it has stolen your quill!”
“No! It can’t be!” Theo moaned as his eyes widened in horror, his pale face going white as a starched sheet.
“Aye, it is!” Andrew nodded as he settled down at his desk, the ill fortuned letter carefully set in the upper left corner so he could dutifully copy it, bad spelling and all. He intended to even slant the sentences just as they were on the original, just to be safe. When it came to the supernatural, it was best to be as careful as possible. Before he would have laughed it off as sheer foolishness, but now after seeing those undead pirates and their skeleton bodies… “You have best go borrow a quill from someone before you end up undead as well! For all we know, its how those pirates got that way!”
“But…”
“You know those pirates can’t read! They must have received one of these, couldn’t read it, and ignored it and then poof! They were cursed!”
“But I don’t want to be undead!” Theo wailed and started wildly throwing everything out of his desk drawer as he frantically searched for the missing quill. Item after item sailed through the air, crashing either into the wall behind him or onto the floor. He was so intent on finding the quill, that without thinking, he threw the glass ink bottle over his shoulder only to have it shatter on impact with the wall.
“Bad luck…” Andrew commented as he studiously bent to making a flawless first copy. Secretly he was rather pleased, as before he had the bad luck. It still stung that Turner had stolen the Dauntless right from under his nose and then his longboat had been run over by the Interceptor. It seemed to him that Groves always had some secret angel on his side, something that had lifted him above the petty troubles of an officer.
Theo’s eyes suddenly brightened and he spun around on his heel, spitting on the floor and patting himself. “Black spot!”
Andrew lifted his eyes from his half done bit of parchment and stared at his roommate. “What bit of foolishness is that?”
“I read that pirates do it, so I thought it might help me as well.” Theo explained as he carefully stepped over the mess he had made on the floor and headed towards the door. “I’ll be right back. I need to go borrow some supplies from someone…”
“You and pirates!” Andrew scoffed. “You just keep admiring them like that and you’ll end up one, an undead one no doubt! And when that happens, you best find a new roommate as I ain’t sharing no room with a guy that has a skull for a face!”
That was too much for Theo and he fled the room into the relative quiet of the corridor. With his luck, James would pick that day to do a room inspection and then he’d be written up for being a slob. Perhaps his punishment would be a twenty-four or thirty-six hour watch. It was certainly better than kissing the gunner’s daughter, but it was awfully hard staying awake all of those hours. To ward off any evil eyes that may be spying on him, he did the Black Spot spitting ritual again for good measure.
“Theo, what are you doing spitting in the corridor?” A calm and cultured voice questioned. “It’s not becoming for an officer to behave like that. I thought you knew better.”
Oh no!
Heat rose up into Theo’s pale face and he slowly turned to face Commodore Norrington. Of all of the people to get caught by, he was the worst. Why couldn’t it have been Phillip or even one of the Middies? “I … I have misplaced my quill and was going to get another one….”
“And you think spitting on the floor is going to help you acquire a quill?” James asked as a slight hint of amusement lit his green eyes.
“It’s to ward off bad luck?”
James sighed. “Not more pirate nonsense. I have enough of it with my fiancé thinking she’s a pirate. Next she’ll want fencing lessons! I swear, some days she thinks’ she’s a man with running around in borrowed Marine outfits - although I admit she does look very fine in them.”
“You did know she was headstrong.” Theo reminded James, feeling slightly relieved that his commanding officer was apparently willing to overlook his lapse of judgment this once. Still, he felt the doom from the ill-fortune letter breathing down the back of his neck like icy fingers. The clock was ticking and he had to get moving if he wanted to finish those copies and write the report.
“Yes, I did. It’s why I admire her so.” James admitted. “She always knows what she wants and has no problem going after it. And she seems so… free. She doesn’t seem to worry what others think of her. Most women, after being kidnapped by pirates, would be horrified and feel ruined by society’s standards. They would go into hiding and would be ashamed to show their face in town. But it didn’t faze her at all and she admittedly held her own against them, unlikely as that is.”
“Yes, Miss Swann is very strong.” Theo agreed. He whetted his dry lips, in preparation for his upcoming request. “May I borrow some supplies so I may write up the report, James?”
“Of course you may, Theo, on the condition that you don’t do more of that spitting. I don’t want the young and impressionable Middies learning that bad habit.” James smiled and pointed down the corridor in the direction he had just come from. “You know where my office is.”
Thrilled, Theo raced off down the hallway and quickly darted into the office. Taking a big stack of parchment, a bottle full of India ink and a quill, he raced back to the room he shared with Andrew. Upon entering, he almost tripped over his scattered belongs on the floor, but managed to catch his balance and hurried to his desk.
“I already have three copies finished,” Andrew bragged happily. “Just twenty-two more to go! We’re lucky this letter is so short or our hands will be cramping up before we’re done.”
“It may anyway…” Theo said as he settled at his desk, arranging his supplies just so.
“Twenty-five copies are still a lot and who will we give them to?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea…”
000
James was thinking of his upcoming date with Elizabeth and where they would go. Last time they had gone out to listen to some beautifully played chamber music by gifted musicians. He had enjoyed the hour long live concert very much, but he had sensed that his date didn’t care for it very much. Elizabeth had fanned herself expertly as a proper young woman should, but he also had noticed she had fidgeted a bit, too. No doubt the music had bored her.
Chamber music is not very pirate-y at all.
He still couldn’t forget her singing that “Yo Ho A Pirate’s Life For Me” song years and years ago when she had been but a young girl. A lively jig was probably more her style, the stuff that the basic deck crew enjoyed playing in the evening hours after supper and when they were off shift. They could get quiet rowdy, with the loud singing and the boot stomping on the decks. The officers allowed it, of course, as the men needed time to relax and keep their spirits up. But he could hardly take Elizabeth to a common sailors bar!
Here he had a date with her tomorrow and he still didn’t know what they were going to do, mainly because all of the common respectable things would bore her. But what did that leave? A pirate outing of some sort? Could he have something exciting staged to please her, to show that he was willing to try? He thought of how Theo admired pirates and seemed to know a lot about them. Could he use that somehow in his idea? Feeling that he could, James turned on his heel and backtracked the way he had come. He would go seek the aid of his two best friends.
Knocking on Theo and Andrew’s door, he waited for a reply. He heard a muffled cry through the door and odd sounds, as if something was being rapidly swept under the bed. The door flung open just then to reveal a slightly disheveled Theo.
“Come in, James.” Theo said as he headed back to his desk and sat down.
James’ green eyes darted around the room and saw that is was relatively neat and that both had their desks covered in pages of written parchment. “I’m glad to see both of you are working on your reports. That business with Barbossa’s crew was ghastly and we need the Dauntless in top shape as quickly as possible. But for the moment, I have another assignment for you two, a special assignment.”
“Oh?” Gillette turned around in his chair so he could see James. “And what may that be?”
“Well, it’s highly irregular what I’m about to ask you and it shall go no further than this room. Is that clear?”
Theo’s eyes widened in utter surprise. “A secret mission?”
“Yes, a secret mission.” James confirmed. “You know a lot about pirates, Theo, and you both know how my fiancé is obsessed with them.”
“Just as much as you are…” Theo boldly stated. “No one has caught as many pirates as you have.”
“True, I do love catching pirates, but she just likes pirates. Even after her ordeal, I don’t think she realizes what brutal monsters they are. She thinks they go on daring adventures digging up treasures on barren islands and sing songs all day. Oh, and they have exciting sword fights and swing around on ropes from the rigging, no doubt while singing more pirate-y songs.”
“That doesn’t sound like a pirate at all!” Andrew gasped, his letter writing forgotten for the moment. “What do you want us to do?”
“I want you two to dress as pirates and then accost us at sword point while we’re on our date.” James blurted out.
“That’s … that’s …” Andrew started to say.
“Crazy, yes, I know.” James agreed with his first lieutenant. “But all of the normal dates simply bore her and I fear if I don’t change I will lose her to Turner.”
“I think it’s brilliant!” Theo heartily agreed. “Dressing as pirates, I mean.”
“Well, of course you would agree!” Andrew rolled his eyes. “But Turner is just a blacksmith. He couldn’t possibly marry her!”
“But she feels that he is a pirate and that may be enough. Besides, he rescued her and I fear that counts for a lot. Women like that sort of thing I hear. I also fear that she may not care what her father thinks of the matter: she will follow her heart. She is headstrong and not too practical in regards to the future. She is not looking at the big picture or what life being a blacksmith’s wife would entail.”
“It’s certainly not what she is used to…” Andrew agreed. “But maybe she thinks he will move up in society instead of her moving down.”
“Or that Governor Swann will buy him a commission in the Navy.” Theo added.
“That is all I would need.” James frowned at the idea. If that happened, he would have to put up with Turner on a daily basis. It would be far too much to bear; especially should the young man actually win Elizabeth over. Still, there is a certain pleasure in making life tough and miserable for Middies…
“What exactly do you want us to do?” Theo asked as he was already planning in his head where he could quickly acquire pirate clothing.
“Tomorrow afternoon I will take Elizabeth on a beach side picnic. After we are seated and comfortable, you two pirates will come along and threaten us. I will gallantly protect her from the scoundrels with my sword.”
“So you want us to put on a sword fight show for her?” Andrew nodded as he thought it over. “I could do that, but I’m doubtful if I could play a convincing pirate. They’re so carefree.”
“And they do things spur of the moment, without any planning.” Theo added as he thought of how clever Jack Sparrow had been in stealing the Interceptor.
“Just do the best you can…” James eyes drifted to the pages of text on their desks. “And I’ll expect those reports before you turn in for the night.”
Just as James was leaving and closing the door, he thought he heard his two lieutenants groaning loudly, but surely that couldn’t be. By the look of things, they must almost be finished.
000
The next morning a very sleepy Theo headed for the quarter master’s with his list of needed supplies for the Dauntless. Through sheer determination and willpower, both he and Andrew had finished the cursed letters and the reports. They still had to send the dumb letters out to someone, but that wasn’t a problem. Fort Charles held countless red-coated Lobsters and blue-coated sailors. Should he give one to the quarter master? Why not? The man had a cushy job just keeping track of supplies in a huge storeroom. If anyone had time to make twenty-five copies, it was he! He would just leave it on the man’s desk while the man was out checking on the equipment needed.
Upon reaching the man’s desk, Theo handed him the long list and then watched him head off to check the supply book. The supply book rested upon a heavy table and thankfully, the man was facing the other way. Glancing around, Theo slipped one of the twenty-five letters out of his uniform and placed it on the man’s desk. Then he waited patiently.
“We’re short several parts, Lieutenant Groves. We’ll have to order them from the blacksmith. The rest I can have sent over to the Dauntless right away.“
“I’ll order the needed parts, as I have to go into town today anyway.” Theo happily agreed as he thought of his pirate clothes buying trip. What fun that ought to be! He had the good luck already, as he could feel it coursing through his veins. And later, he could be a pirate! Accepting the list of the missing parts, Theo left and headed towards Fort Charles exit.
Approaching the main gate, he saw that the ones on guard duty were Murtogg and Mullroy. They were the most bumbling of the marines, yet were very loyal and steadfast. Should he give them copies of the cursed letter? Did they even know how to read? More important, would they tell James who had given them the letters? Most likely they wouldn’t.
“Here. Some mail came in for you two…” Theo said as he handed each one a copy of the letter. He watched them salute him sharply and then accept the bits of folded parchment. And with that done, he passed through the gate and headed past the Navy piers into town.
000
Peering about and seeing no other officers, Murtogg and Mullroy peeled open the letters and gawked at them.
“Say, what is this all about?” Mullroy asked his counterpart Marine. “It’s speaking about ill fortune and whoever wrote this can’t spell at all.”
“It looks like we got to make twenty-five copies … each.”
“Where we gonna get the paper from?” Mullroy commented as he thought about making twenty-five copies. “I don’t have any and I know you don’t have any either. And I certainly ain’t going to buy any. That stuff is crazy expensive!”
“Well, we do have to guard the Commodore’s Office this afternoon while he’s going to be gone. Surely he has paper.”
“But it’s his paper, not ours.”
“But this is clearly Navy business, like Official Navy Business. Just think, we don’t want bad luck befalling us, do we? That could affect the entire Fort Charles! The Navy is as weak or strong as its weakest member and it not be proper if that be us, so we would be doing it for him, see?”
“I guess so…” Mullroy shrugged, clearly uncertain. “But we better not get caught taking his parchment.”
“We can hide it in our uniforms until we get to our quarters.”
“But who do we send these copies to anyway?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmmmm….it better be someone who can afford paper, that’s for sure!”
“You’re right about that! Not too many around here got paper, unless one steals that weak stuff from the loo….”
“Could never write on that stuff, you idiot! The sharp point of the quill would just tear it! Besides, that stuff is unnatural! I heard it’s from China or someplace like that…”
“Well, with these letters going around even that will be gone. Maybe we ought to stock up after our shift here?”
“Go around stealing loo paper you mean?” Mullroy asked, frowning. “How are we going to explain that?”
“Just say we’re restocking the mens’ room? Who would question us anyway? People these days take loo paper for granted. They don’t miss it until the roll runs empty and there’s not another one available. Soon it’ll be back to using leaves!”
“It’s that bloody Lord Beckett! I heard he made a fortune for his East India Company by bringing loo paper to the Caribbean after it was discovered in China. What else you think he needs all of those big ships for?”
“I thought he sold spices…”
“Sure he does, but think! Spices go on food and food means you need loo paper later!”
“That’s crooked! He’s making money on both ends!”
“Shhhhhhh! I think someone is coming!”
“Look, it’s him! Lord of the Loo!”
“Stop that! You’re making me laugh and we got to look all serious so he won’t suspect anything.”
Both men put on dull expressions and saluted sharply as Lord Beckett headed into Fort Charles. He passed without even glancing at them and both Marines sighed with relief. The last thing they wanted was to get in trouble for calling Lord Beckett the Lord of the Loo.
“We had better take the rest of this shift seriously. Then after lunch, it’s off to the Commodore’s Office.”
TO BE CONTINUED....