Fountain of Youth.
Because Hiatus's and I are BFF. I'm actually writing this again. The new Florence and Bruce Peninsula albums are helping.
Title: Noli me Tangere
Pairing: Um. meckett? It just kind of happened. I had no control over it.
Rating: R-ish
Characters: Everyone and their grandmother. Plus new people from Pirates 4. :D
Summary: Somehow,
through the magic of plot holes, Mercer and Beckett survive 3 and are
chillin' in London when Sparrow shows up. Let the quest (race) for the
fountain of youth begin!
Part I Part VI
Part II Part VII
Part III Part VIII
Part IV Part IX
Part V
'The Admiral once said to me that if men knew what he dreamed of he would be declared mad.' Beckett says it to no one in particular. Sparrow just frowns, he's remembering something but doesn't care to say. Mercer just shrugs and says that every man is a little mad. And anyway, war makes men different.
Gibbs agrees, 'You're not the same lad who went off a few years ago. You're different. You've changed. But no one wants to talk about it so all you have are your dreams. The Admiral was an't alone though I'm sure he felt he was.'
---
Beckett, curious, Mr. Mercer, what was your father like? You knew mine. You know me. I know nothing about you.
'A drunkard.'
They're sitting in the crows nest. Barbossa say's they're two days away from the cove. Then they will rendezvous with Blackbeard and go in as a team. Can't hurt to have the undead on your side.
'More than that.'
'An angry drunkard. As most are.' The clerk pulls out a spy glass and scans the horizon. Below, on deck, Sparrow watches him with an uneasy eye. 'He was a miner.'
'When did you try and kill Sparrow? Other than when I ordered you to.'
'Before I met you. But only just, sir.' He's frowning at the sea, at the sky, but not at his lord. His back is to the younger man who is sitting and pouting.
'What will we do if we have to fight these creatures?'
'Win, I suppose.'
---
The clergyman says that he grew up in a fishing town. He says - if you burn oyster shells you get lime and if you throw it in the eyes you will be blinded. Barbossa grinned a cheshire cat grin. Good, he says, we have oyster shells. We can make lime. Throw it in the eyes of the god forsaken creatures and capture one while it's distracted. You're a good lad, he pats Philip on the back. You're a good lad.
The lad himself just looks sick to his stomach.
---
Madam,
I am well. I am aware that I left with little warning and the situation is complicated. You understand, I am sure. It will be explained in full upon my return. Send my regards to my sister. There is no permanent address through which to reach me so do not attempt to reply. Since Mr. Mercer has detected no rumours of your ill health I shall assume that all is well at home.
After these past few months I have decided to agree with Dr. Wright and declare that the weather here (that is, the Caribbean) is rather good for my health. But fear not, we shall not be moving here. I couldn't possibly abide the lack of culture that is pervasive amongst the locals.
I trust that you are keeping well. See to it that everything in Town is running as it ought to. I know that I can trust you with my affaires in the absence of myself and Mr. Mercer. Tell Lord Fletcher to go ahead with the deal, he will understand. Also, please send a letter, delicately worded, to Harper and inform him of my opinion of that matter that we discussed prior to my departure. My opinions on the subject have not changed. Please relay that to him using as close to my wording as possible. I would pen a draught here but fear that it may be too public.
Regarding my business here I expect a satisfactory conclusion.
Your loving husband,
Cutler.
Mercer finishes penning the letter, laughs, and says - the least you could do, sir, is sign it yourself. Beckett sighs, sits up from the bunk, and says with a dramatic glare - Mr. Mercer you know how to sign my name. She won't be able to tell the difference.
'Sir, she will. But never mind.'
---
Do you remember, sir? Mercer wants to ask it as Beckett sits moodily in the crows nest. It's night and Angelica had found the older man, taken his arm, and said 'Whatever is wrong, go talk to him before he does someone harm.'
'I think - before he does himself harm.' He had answered smoothly. She had laughed and replied that Lord Beckett wasn't the sort to 'hurt his pretty face, yes?'.
Do you remember, sir? How we survived? How we were plucked from the certain grip of the water and delivered unto this world. Baptised anew. If he was like Mr. Swift and held stock in such things.
Do you remember, sir? Because I don't. I woke. It was morning. And we were in England and no one said anything or met my eye or your eye. They all mimicked each other, parrots repeating a rehearsed line - you were both safely delivered, praise the Lord.
Mercer wants to ask it but instead pulls his master down from the nest and says, 'you should sleep, sir. I'll take your shift.'
---
The crew is uneasy. They watch each other with narrow eyes and have taken to hiding weapons amongst the rope and cargo. Just in case. For two days they have burned oyster shells. Everyone is coughing and swearing that their lungs will come up with the next heave. Beckett finds himself dry heaving for twenty minutes after his shift with the fire. Mercer tries to get him to drink water, he just pushes it away and says that he's fine, God damnit. Can a man not get some peace?
Blackbeard is riding hard on their tale, intent on following them. Barbossa smiles, 'You would think he doesn't trust us.' Sparrow looks hurt but then grins his mad grin.
'We 'ave 'is daughter. Course he's worried.'
'Yes,' drawled. 'His daughter who you're rodgering.'
'I'm doing no such thing!'
Gibbs snorts into his ale and Barbossa laughs. There is an uneasy peace for half an hour. Then Barbossa sees Angelica and remembers why he wants Sparrow dead. Ship and Fountains and chests of gold aside.
---
'Four boats,' Blackbeard declares. 'Each maned half and half - your crew and mine. Savvy?' Barbossa looks prepared to argue the point but Sparrow hastily agrees. Gibbs mutters to Mercer, 'kind of like meeting the in-laws, aye.'
Beckett leans into Mercer, head tilted to the older man's ear, 'I hate it when there are clearly motivations and stories that I know nothing about.'
'Sparrow wants his ship, sir. Barbossa wants,' he frowns. Beckett nods. Gibbs shrugs.
'That's the rub,' the lord says. 'What does Barbossa want? And Blackbeard? What does he want?'
'His life back.' They turn, slightly startled. Angelica smiles and it reminds them of Sparrow. Catlike. Understanding. Knowing. And a little mad. 'My father is doomed to damnation. The fountain can fix that.'
'And you?' Beckett all but purrs. 'Why do you want the fountain?'
'Same reason as Barbossa.' She laughs and walks towards the arguing captains. Gibbs shrugs again, that's the way of the ladies, lads. Riddles, riddles, riddles.
Beckett sneers, 'words, words, words. Mr. Gibbs.'
Four boats it is finally concluded. Each manned with various and sundry of the two ships.
'Keep yer zombies on the main vessel,' Barbossa mutters. Blackbeard sneers and replies that he prefers his zombies to his men.
'Honest workers, being dead not much else to do. And loyal.'
'It was part of our deal. No undead voodoo creatures in the boats.' Barbossa looks ready to kill something. Beckett is reminded of how Mercer looks when he gets angry. The two times he's actually seen it for his clerk is notoriously hard to anger. Easy to annoy, easy to frustrate. But to killing anger, no. Too much cold reptile blood in the man for that sort of passion.
'Aye, maybe, in the beginning it was part of the deal. But now that I see yer crew, I want me proper ones.'
'Blackbeard,' a warning glare. The other pirate laughs. Gleeful. Mercer just mutters that they're surrounded by bedlamites.
'Come now Barbossa, don't make me Charleston ye.'
'Doubt ye could. That was nigh on twenty years ago.'
Mercer looks pleased, amused, generally content. 'Sir, I think this has just become one of my favourite moments in my life. Other than the time you told the inappropriate joke about Martin Luther during debate time in Parliament.'
'That was a good joke, wasn't it?'
'Rather.'
Angelica turns to them and hisses - stop being so British for once. This is serious, yes?
Mercer just about curses as he finds himself sitting next to Philip. The clergyman looks over and says that he won't try and convert him, he promises.
'Time and a place, lad.' Barbossa mutters. There is silence as three of Blackbeard's men join them. One of them, a youngish man, eastern, smiles. Ah, ah, it's been a long time, Joseph-ji. Barbossa sighs and mutters, Of course Mr. Mercer would know someone on Blackbeard's crew.
'Salil-ji,' a slight bow. Uncertain, both wary.
'Salaman, now. Salil died in Bombay, or do you not remember that?'
The clerk gives a slight smile, a slight shrug. He could remember, or he could not remember. Salaman takes it in stride, we are on the same side for the moment. The past is past. What do your people say? Water under the bridge? An apt saying, don't you think, Joseph-ji.
Behind Salaman two men sit silent, watchful. One has no eyes so Mercer looks at the other man instead.
'His name's Scrum,' Salaman says. 'Has a thing for the pretty piece of skirt on the other boat.'
'The pretty piece of skirt is named Miss Angelica.' Scrum hisses. Salaman shrugs and says that he doesn't care much. These European women are too skinny for his tastes.
'The other is the quartermaster.'
The zombie nods to Mercer who nods back.
'You should have died,' he says. Salaman raises and eyebrow and looks to Mercer, waiting for an explanation. 'You should have died and the other should have died. The one with you. The lord.'
'Should we have? Well. Shame, that.'
---
There is silence in the cave. No voices, no wind, nothing alive. Only the push of waves on rock, the drip of water off stone. Torches are soon lit and the boats are rowed further in. Sometimes, looking down, Beckett swears he sees eyes looking back up to him. Eyes and a grins with sharp teeth, pointed looks, hungry looks.
'Feels like death,' Barbossa mutters.
'It is death,' Angelica says. There is silence. They push further in and slowly the cave begins to narrow. From the ceiling drop pale, wax coloured stalls, thick curtains of varying colours from sand to rust. Moss and algae climb up the walls, cover flow stone and water marks. Water spiders scuttle along in front of them, acting in the place of dolphins leading ships ever onward.
'They do not want us here.' The quartermaster whispers it to Salaman. Some understanding is passed between them. 'They will show anger in five minutes.' Salaman nods and pulls his sword out, makes his knives easier to reach. The rest of Blackbeard's crew begins to do the same and Barbossa's soon follow suit.
'Everything he says comes true,' Salaman explains to Mercer and Philip. 'He says that the captain will die soon and so to avoid it - the fountain.'
'I've always found those seeking to avoid death reach it that much sooner.' Mercer replies. Salaman laughs and says that of all men, he reasons that Joseph-ji would know the most about death. Seeing as he has cheated it once already.
'The quartermaster is never wrong. He says you should be dead and so you should be dead. How did you survive?'
Mercer smiles. It's cold. Salaman takes it in stride and smirks back. 'Mermaids.' The clerk answers and the pirate laughs.
It happens suddenly. There is a ripple of water being moved then a screech and one of Blackbeard's men is ripped off the boat and into the water. His face is the shock of sudden death.
Then silence. Everyone is tense. Muscles taught and waiting for the next attack. The quartermaster is complacent. He has seen the end and knows.
Beckett has cocked a pistol and is watching the water warily, there is dim barely visible movement. A flash of scales. Something slithering under the boat.
Silence.
Then the screech. Gibbs is knocked forward, Sparrow shoots and the mermaid plunges into the water with only shreds of fabric in its mouth. The first words in minutes is Gibbs holding his arm and screaming, 'fuck fuck fuck fuck'. Sparrow hands him his bandanna to use as a bandage and says - oy mate, easy there, ladies are present. Angelica gives him an unreadable look but quickly returns to staring at the water. And waiting.
Blackbeard is motioning to his men who begin opening boxes and making preparations. It takes Beckett a few minutes to realise it's Greek Fire. When he looks back to the entrance of cave he sees more ripples. Multiplying faster than he can fathom. There is one thought in his mind and it's 'oh Blood of Christ fuck my life'.
Mercer is stabbing something hard in the chest, and in front of him a woman is gasping, grasping at the sword, her hands bloody. But under the water it is a creature he can't fathom that is dying. He remembers hearing tales as a lad. When he visited the docks in Liverpool, a days ride from Manchester. He would wait for his father to finish business and listen to the sailors. Below water, me boy, they're proper demons. Well evil and vicious. Eat sailors for breakfast, they do. But above water, when they reach for you, they're the prettiest thing you ever did see. Smiling all sweet like, reaching for you, telling you they want you. But then you're under and they're at your throat. Mermaids, lad, right bloody evil things they are.
He wonders, briefly, as he stabs another, how the sailor knew what the creatures were like. When he had seen them. Where he had learned such things.
'You figured them out quickly,' Salaman says as he fills a pot with a mixture before ceiling it and lighting a fuse. He waits for a moment then tosses onto the water as it ignites. Around them more fire spreads as more pots are thrown over.
'Clever idea,' Mercer mutters as he grabs the ores. 'But I'm not sure how you'll feel once we catch fire.'
'Quartermaster says we won't. Well, one boat will, but not ours.'
Philip is sitting at the stern and shaking, eyes wide in horror as Salaman stabs another mermaid. You're killing them, you're killing them, you're killing them is all he can whisper. Mercer glares, thrusts a knife into his hand, and says to make himself useful. Better we kill them before they kill us. And boy, it's a none too kind death. The thing with mermaids is, you're still alive when they start to eat you.
One of the mermaids leans up to Philip, smiling shyly. She is singing and he is mesmerised, leaning closer into her outstretched arms. Mercer curses and grabs the boy back, throwing a knife into the mermaid's shoulder, she shudders and backs away as Salaman throws a net.
'We have to get one. Better when they're wounded.'
Mercer nods and helps to pull up the writhing creature. She's small, he sees. Thin, pale, with black hair and inhuman eyes. She's staring at Philip and he's staring back.
Mercer, annoyed, knocks her out, 'Can't swing a dead cat around you people without someone falling stupidly in love.' Philip looks hurt and angry. He says he doesn't want her to be hurt. That she's beautiful. That it's wrong to kill a creature of the Lord. 'Mr. Swift, unless you want to be eaten whilst you drown, please shut up.' The boy does. Salaman snorts and says that the boy has much growing up to do if he still holds to those beliefs.
'Love,' Salaman says. 'There's a curse if I ever knew one.'
The captains, all two and a half of them, are arguing. Moon is still full and heavy in the sky but Mercer can see the sun beginning its tentative journey. It's going to be a red sky. Salaman shrugs when he says this - I've seen redder skies and not has happened, Joseph-ji. Superstitious are you?
'Only on the off chance it might be right.'
Beckett has joined them and laughs. It's relief, exhilaration, satisfaction, but mostly relief. He says - superstition? You should hear Mr. Mercer speak on ghosts. For a man who is so reasonable it's embarassing.
Mercer is unphased, he has heard such things before. 'You haven't seen what I've seen, sir.'
'Yes, and you never tell me. Don't say that the Edinburgh story is real. I know when you're pulling wool over people's eyes.'
Salaman laughs. Slaps Mercer on the back and says, I always knew you two would get on famously. I told him to look you up, you know, Lord Beckett. I told Joseph-ji that there's a lord who's just as crazy as he is and he's looking for a clerk. Seemed I was right once again.
Behind the bickering captains stands the quartermaster. He is watching the seen with unseeing eyes. Beckett stares back and says there is a man who reminds me of Shakespeare. Where the fool is wise and the wiseman is the fool. Here we can all see but are blind and he is blind but can see.
'Hardly so poetic as that,' Salaman mutters. 'His mother was a witch and his father was the devil.'
'Do you believe that?' Mercer asks, not unkindly.
'You haven't seen what I've seen, Joseph-ji.'
It comes to an agreement between Barbossa, Blackbeard, and Sparrow that the mermaid will go on Barbossa's ship but will be guarded by several of Blackbeard's men.
'Salaman,' the pirate captain calls. He motions for the man to join him. 'You, Scrum, and Filipo will go with Captain Barbossa and Sparrow here. Guard my mermaid for me, aye.'
'Aye, sir.'
There is an undercurrent Beckett can feel. Between Salaman and Sparrow and Angelica and Mercer. His own Mercer. He thinks - I need to ask him about this. About his trying to kill Sparrow. The first time. And his knowing this Salaman fellow. And all of this.
Outside there is a screech, an intensely human howl of pain. Agony. It sounds like mourning. Beckett calls it a watery Dirge. Gibbs growls out that it's a curse. Below the ship the water ripples. The tide pulls out.
tbc
Title: Noli me Tangere
Pairing: Um. meckett? It just kind of happened. I had no control over it.
Rating: R-ish
Characters: Everyone and their grandmother. Plus new people from Pirates 4. :D
Summary: Somehow,
through the magic of plot holes, Mercer and Beckett survive 3 and are
chillin' in London when Sparrow shows up. Let the quest (race) for the
fountain of youth begin!
Part I Part VI
Part II Part VII
Part III Part VIII
Part IV Part IX
Part V
'The Admiral once said to me that if men knew what he dreamed of he would be declared mad.' Beckett says it to no one in particular. Sparrow just frowns, he's remembering something but doesn't care to say. Mercer just shrugs and says that every man is a little mad. And anyway, war makes men different.
Gibbs agrees, 'You're not the same lad who went off a few years ago. You're different. You've changed. But no one wants to talk about it so all you have are your dreams. The Admiral was an't alone though I'm sure he felt he was.'
---
Beckett, curious, Mr. Mercer, what was your father like? You knew mine. You know me. I know nothing about you.
'A drunkard.'
They're sitting in the crows nest. Barbossa say's they're two days away from the cove. Then they will rendezvous with Blackbeard and go in as a team. Can't hurt to have the undead on your side.
'More than that.'
'An angry drunkard. As most are.' The clerk pulls out a spy glass and scans the horizon. Below, on deck, Sparrow watches him with an uneasy eye. 'He was a miner.'
'When did you try and kill Sparrow? Other than when I ordered you to.'
'Before I met you. But only just, sir.' He's frowning at the sea, at the sky, but not at his lord. His back is to the younger man who is sitting and pouting.
'What will we do if we have to fight these creatures?'
'Win, I suppose.'
---
The clergyman says that he grew up in a fishing town. He says - if you burn oyster shells you get lime and if you throw it in the eyes you will be blinded. Barbossa grinned a cheshire cat grin. Good, he says, we have oyster shells. We can make lime. Throw it in the eyes of the god forsaken creatures and capture one while it's distracted. You're a good lad, he pats Philip on the back. You're a good lad.
The lad himself just looks sick to his stomach.
---
Madam,
I am well. I am aware that I left with little warning and the situation is complicated. You understand, I am sure. It will be explained in full upon my return. Send my regards to my sister. There is no permanent address through which to reach me so do not attempt to reply. Since Mr. Mercer has detected no rumours of your ill health I shall assume that all is well at home.
After these past few months I have decided to agree with Dr. Wright and declare that the weather here (that is, the Caribbean) is rather good for my health. But fear not, we shall not be moving here. I couldn't possibly abide the lack of culture that is pervasive amongst the locals.
I trust that you are keeping well. See to it that everything in Town is running as it ought to. I know that I can trust you with my affaires in the absence of myself and Mr. Mercer. Tell Lord Fletcher to go ahead with the deal, he will understand. Also, please send a letter, delicately worded, to Harper and inform him of my opinion of that matter that we discussed prior to my departure. My opinions on the subject have not changed. Please relay that to him using as close to my wording as possible. I would pen a draught here but fear that it may be too public.
Regarding my business here I expect a satisfactory conclusion.
Your loving husband,
Cutler.
Mercer finishes penning the letter, laughs, and says - the least you could do, sir, is sign it yourself. Beckett sighs, sits up from the bunk, and says with a dramatic glare - Mr. Mercer you know how to sign my name. She won't be able to tell the difference.
'Sir, she will. But never mind.'
---
Do you remember, sir? Mercer wants to ask it as Beckett sits moodily in the crows nest. It's night and Angelica had found the older man, taken his arm, and said 'Whatever is wrong, go talk to him before he does someone harm.'
'I think - before he does himself harm.' He had answered smoothly. She had laughed and replied that Lord Beckett wasn't the sort to 'hurt his pretty face, yes?'.
Do you remember, sir? How we survived? How we were plucked from the certain grip of the water and delivered unto this world. Baptised anew. If he was like Mr. Swift and held stock in such things.
Do you remember, sir? Because I don't. I woke. It was morning. And we were in England and no one said anything or met my eye or your eye. They all mimicked each other, parrots repeating a rehearsed line - you were both safely delivered, praise the Lord.
Mercer wants to ask it but instead pulls his master down from the nest and says, 'you should sleep, sir. I'll take your shift.'
---
The crew is uneasy. They watch each other with narrow eyes and have taken to hiding weapons amongst the rope and cargo. Just in case. For two days they have burned oyster shells. Everyone is coughing and swearing that their lungs will come up with the next heave. Beckett finds himself dry heaving for twenty minutes after his shift with the fire. Mercer tries to get him to drink water, he just pushes it away and says that he's fine, God damnit. Can a man not get some peace?
Blackbeard is riding hard on their tale, intent on following them. Barbossa smiles, 'You would think he doesn't trust us.' Sparrow looks hurt but then grins his mad grin.
'We 'ave 'is daughter. Course he's worried.'
'Yes,' drawled. 'His daughter who you're rodgering.'
'I'm doing no such thing!'
Gibbs snorts into his ale and Barbossa laughs. There is an uneasy peace for half an hour. Then Barbossa sees Angelica and remembers why he wants Sparrow dead. Ship and Fountains and chests of gold aside.
---
'Four boats,' Blackbeard declares. 'Each maned half and half - your crew and mine. Savvy?' Barbossa looks prepared to argue the point but Sparrow hastily agrees. Gibbs mutters to Mercer, 'kind of like meeting the in-laws, aye.'
Beckett leans into Mercer, head tilted to the older man's ear, 'I hate it when there are clearly motivations and stories that I know nothing about.'
'Sparrow wants his ship, sir. Barbossa wants,' he frowns. Beckett nods. Gibbs shrugs.
'That's the rub,' the lord says. 'What does Barbossa want? And Blackbeard? What does he want?'
'His life back.' They turn, slightly startled. Angelica smiles and it reminds them of Sparrow. Catlike. Understanding. Knowing. And a little mad. 'My father is doomed to damnation. The fountain can fix that.'
'And you?' Beckett all but purrs. 'Why do you want the fountain?'
'Same reason as Barbossa.' She laughs and walks towards the arguing captains. Gibbs shrugs again, that's the way of the ladies, lads. Riddles, riddles, riddles.
Beckett sneers, 'words, words, words. Mr. Gibbs.'
Four boats it is finally concluded. Each manned with various and sundry of the two ships.
'Keep yer zombies on the main vessel,' Barbossa mutters. Blackbeard sneers and replies that he prefers his zombies to his men.
'Honest workers, being dead not much else to do. And loyal.'
'It was part of our deal. No undead voodoo creatures in the boats.' Barbossa looks ready to kill something. Beckett is reminded of how Mercer looks when he gets angry. The two times he's actually seen it for his clerk is notoriously hard to anger. Easy to annoy, easy to frustrate. But to killing anger, no. Too much cold reptile blood in the man for that sort of passion.
'Aye, maybe, in the beginning it was part of the deal. But now that I see yer crew, I want me proper ones.'
'Blackbeard,' a warning glare. The other pirate laughs. Gleeful. Mercer just mutters that they're surrounded by bedlamites.
'Come now Barbossa, don't make me Charleston ye.'
'Doubt ye could. That was nigh on twenty years ago.'
Mercer looks pleased, amused, generally content. 'Sir, I think this has just become one of my favourite moments in my life. Other than the time you told the inappropriate joke about Martin Luther during debate time in Parliament.'
'That was a good joke, wasn't it?'
'Rather.'
Angelica turns to them and hisses - stop being so British for once. This is serious, yes?
Mercer just about curses as he finds himself sitting next to Philip. The clergyman looks over and says that he won't try and convert him, he promises.
'Time and a place, lad.' Barbossa mutters. There is silence as three of Blackbeard's men join them. One of them, a youngish man, eastern, smiles. Ah, ah, it's been a long time, Joseph-ji. Barbossa sighs and mutters, Of course Mr. Mercer would know someone on Blackbeard's crew.
'Salil-ji,' a slight bow. Uncertain, both wary.
'Salaman, now. Salil died in Bombay, or do you not remember that?'
The clerk gives a slight smile, a slight shrug. He could remember, or he could not remember. Salaman takes it in stride, we are on the same side for the moment. The past is past. What do your people say? Water under the bridge? An apt saying, don't you think, Joseph-ji.
Behind Salaman two men sit silent, watchful. One has no eyes so Mercer looks at the other man instead.
'His name's Scrum,' Salaman says. 'Has a thing for the pretty piece of skirt on the other boat.'
'The pretty piece of skirt is named Miss Angelica.' Scrum hisses. Salaman shrugs and says that he doesn't care much. These European women are too skinny for his tastes.
'The other is the quartermaster.'
The zombie nods to Mercer who nods back.
'You should have died,' he says. Salaman raises and eyebrow and looks to Mercer, waiting for an explanation. 'You should have died and the other should have died. The one with you. The lord.'
'Should we have? Well. Shame, that.'
---
There is silence in the cave. No voices, no wind, nothing alive. Only the push of waves on rock, the drip of water off stone. Torches are soon lit and the boats are rowed further in. Sometimes, looking down, Beckett swears he sees eyes looking back up to him. Eyes and a grins with sharp teeth, pointed looks, hungry looks.
'Feels like death,' Barbossa mutters.
'It is death,' Angelica says. There is silence. They push further in and slowly the cave begins to narrow. From the ceiling drop pale, wax coloured stalls, thick curtains of varying colours from sand to rust. Moss and algae climb up the walls, cover flow stone and water marks. Water spiders scuttle along in front of them, acting in the place of dolphins leading ships ever onward.
'They do not want us here.' The quartermaster whispers it to Salaman. Some understanding is passed between them. 'They will show anger in five minutes.' Salaman nods and pulls his sword out, makes his knives easier to reach. The rest of Blackbeard's crew begins to do the same and Barbossa's soon follow suit.
'Everything he says comes true,' Salaman explains to Mercer and Philip. 'He says that the captain will die soon and so to avoid it - the fountain.'
'I've always found those seeking to avoid death reach it that much sooner.' Mercer replies. Salaman laughs and says that of all men, he reasons that Joseph-ji would know the most about death. Seeing as he has cheated it once already.
'The quartermaster is never wrong. He says you should be dead and so you should be dead. How did you survive?'
Mercer smiles. It's cold. Salaman takes it in stride and smirks back. 'Mermaids.' The clerk answers and the pirate laughs.
It happens suddenly. There is a ripple of water being moved then a screech and one of Blackbeard's men is ripped off the boat and into the water. His face is the shock of sudden death.
Then silence. Everyone is tense. Muscles taught and waiting for the next attack. The quartermaster is complacent. He has seen the end and knows.
Beckett has cocked a pistol and is watching the water warily, there is dim barely visible movement. A flash of scales. Something slithering under the boat.
Silence.
Then the screech. Gibbs is knocked forward, Sparrow shoots and the mermaid plunges into the water with only shreds of fabric in its mouth. The first words in minutes is Gibbs holding his arm and screaming, 'fuck fuck fuck fuck'. Sparrow hands him his bandanna to use as a bandage and says - oy mate, easy there, ladies are present. Angelica gives him an unreadable look but quickly returns to staring at the water. And waiting.
Blackbeard is motioning to his men who begin opening boxes and making preparations. It takes Beckett a few minutes to realise it's Greek Fire. When he looks back to the entrance of cave he sees more ripples. Multiplying faster than he can fathom. There is one thought in his mind and it's 'oh Blood of Christ fuck my life'.
Mercer is stabbing something hard in the chest, and in front of him a woman is gasping, grasping at the sword, her hands bloody. But under the water it is a creature he can't fathom that is dying. He remembers hearing tales as a lad. When he visited the docks in Liverpool, a days ride from Manchester. He would wait for his father to finish business and listen to the sailors. Below water, me boy, they're proper demons. Well evil and vicious. Eat sailors for breakfast, they do. But above water, when they reach for you, they're the prettiest thing you ever did see. Smiling all sweet like, reaching for you, telling you they want you. But then you're under and they're at your throat. Mermaids, lad, right bloody evil things they are.
He wonders, briefly, as he stabs another, how the sailor knew what the creatures were like. When he had seen them. Where he had learned such things.
'You figured them out quickly,' Salaman says as he fills a pot with a mixture before ceiling it and lighting a fuse. He waits for a moment then tosses onto the water as it ignites. Around them more fire spreads as more pots are thrown over.
'Clever idea,' Mercer mutters as he grabs the ores. 'But I'm not sure how you'll feel once we catch fire.'
'Quartermaster says we won't. Well, one boat will, but not ours.'
Philip is sitting at the stern and shaking, eyes wide in horror as Salaman stabs another mermaid. You're killing them, you're killing them, you're killing them is all he can whisper. Mercer glares, thrusts a knife into his hand, and says to make himself useful. Better we kill them before they kill us. And boy, it's a none too kind death. The thing with mermaids is, you're still alive when they start to eat you.
One of the mermaids leans up to Philip, smiling shyly. She is singing and he is mesmerised, leaning closer into her outstretched arms. Mercer curses and grabs the boy back, throwing a knife into the mermaid's shoulder, she shudders and backs away as Salaman throws a net.
'We have to get one. Better when they're wounded.'
Mercer nods and helps to pull up the writhing creature. She's small, he sees. Thin, pale, with black hair and inhuman eyes. She's staring at Philip and he's staring back.
Mercer, annoyed, knocks her out, 'Can't swing a dead cat around you people without someone falling stupidly in love.' Philip looks hurt and angry. He says he doesn't want her to be hurt. That she's beautiful. That it's wrong to kill a creature of the Lord. 'Mr. Swift, unless you want to be eaten whilst you drown, please shut up.' The boy does. Salaman snorts and says that the boy has much growing up to do if he still holds to those beliefs.
'Love,' Salaman says. 'There's a curse if I ever knew one.'
The captains, all two and a half of them, are arguing. Moon is still full and heavy in the sky but Mercer can see the sun beginning its tentative journey. It's going to be a red sky. Salaman shrugs when he says this - I've seen redder skies and not has happened, Joseph-ji. Superstitious are you?
'Only on the off chance it might be right.'
Beckett has joined them and laughs. It's relief, exhilaration, satisfaction, but mostly relief. He says - superstition? You should hear Mr. Mercer speak on ghosts. For a man who is so reasonable it's embarassing.
Mercer is unphased, he has heard such things before. 'You haven't seen what I've seen, sir.'
'Yes, and you never tell me. Don't say that the Edinburgh story is real. I know when you're pulling wool over people's eyes.'
Salaman laughs. Slaps Mercer on the back and says, I always knew you two would get on famously. I told him to look you up, you know, Lord Beckett. I told Joseph-ji that there's a lord who's just as crazy as he is and he's looking for a clerk. Seemed I was right once again.
Behind the bickering captains stands the quartermaster. He is watching the seen with unseeing eyes. Beckett stares back and says there is a man who reminds me of Shakespeare. Where the fool is wise and the wiseman is the fool. Here we can all see but are blind and he is blind but can see.
'Hardly so poetic as that,' Salaman mutters. 'His mother was a witch and his father was the devil.'
'Do you believe that?' Mercer asks, not unkindly.
'You haven't seen what I've seen, Joseph-ji.'
It comes to an agreement between Barbossa, Blackbeard, and Sparrow that the mermaid will go on Barbossa's ship but will be guarded by several of Blackbeard's men.
'Salaman,' the pirate captain calls. He motions for the man to join him. 'You, Scrum, and Filipo will go with Captain Barbossa and Sparrow here. Guard my mermaid for me, aye.'
'Aye, sir.'
There is an undercurrent Beckett can feel. Between Salaman and Sparrow and Angelica and Mercer. His own Mercer. He thinks - I need to ask him about this. About his trying to kill Sparrow. The first time. And his knowing this Salaman fellow. And all of this.
Outside there is a screech, an intensely human howl of pain. Agony. It sounds like mourning. Beckett calls it a watery Dirge. Gibbs growls out that it's a curse. Below the ship the water ripples. The tide pulls out.
tbc