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The Haunting Place	By : Lktwoozee Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 11161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
- 29
See previous chapters for Disclaimer, Warnings, and Notes.

*For the AFF Readers: many parts of this fic were missing
since the �crash�, I�ve just reloaded the entire fic. So if you started reading this in the past few months, you might
want to go back and read the fic in its entirety. Especially �Jack�s Tattoos, it�s my favorite and was missing most
of the text.

Recap: I�m gonna briefly review the story of the Alpha since
the chapters (Chapter 7, end of 16, and a bit of 27) detailing Jack�s plan was
such a very long time ago:
1. Fifty years ago Captain Romulus sailed the Alpha,
Barbossa was the ship�s Cabin Boy.
2. While suppressing a potential mutiny, Romulus amassed his
treasure and hid it near present-day Cabra Robada, the new Spanish stronghold
which replaced the fort sacked by the Black Pearl twelve years ago.
3. While Romulus is killing the mutineers and hiding the
treasure, the Alpha is sunk by the Portuguese and Spanish fleets while anchored
in bay.
4. Romulus commits suicide on the beach, he is buried by the
natives.
5. Romulus� ghost has been haunting Cabra Robada.

Author�s note: �*blank*� denotes Spanish.

Chapter Twenty-eight: Carcelero

�Bye
Pearl!� Kristy bellowed, waving from the shoreline at the shadowed
silhouette of the swaying ship, �And no worries, we shall take good care o�
yer boy for ye!�
Brows
scrunched, Maren glanced from the ghost to the Black Pearl and back again. �Sometimes I truly worry �bouts ye,� sighed
Maren.
�Why? What I do?�
�Really
Kristy, talkin� to ships?�
�Ye know
Pet, for a medium ye�re very skeptical.�
The rowboat
crunched on the gritty rocks as Jack and Gibbs dragged it away from the salty
tide and into the brush to be hidden.
�Well then Gibbs,� Jack theatrically dusted his hands off, �Ye have one
hour. Merry huntin�.�
�Aye, leave
it to me,� Gibbs rasped, �Ole Izzie ca�n be too far off. Just a matter o� shakin� the woodworks, ifen
ye get me meanin�,� and tapped his nose twice.
�Have to it
then, mate,� Jack patted him on the shoulder and thus they parted, Gibbs
striding down the high road and Sparrow turning towards the low road. A few yards away, both pirates abruptly
tripped over their own feet. Solid land
was a harsh mistress to those with legs accustomed to the sea. Jack swore at the bitch earth under his
breath, before waving Maren over. �Oh
Madam Medium,� drawling cheerfully, he studied Maren�s posture for a
moment. Her profile was facing him and
she was staring intently at an empty space half a dozen inches or so above her
head. To any unfamiliar onlooker, she
would seem simply a pensive woman, stealing a moment to herself, quiet and
daydreaming, but Jack knew better. She
had that look on her face, a look Maren probably wasn�t even
aware she was making. It was a subtle
affect, miniscule really, and it had taken Jack some concentration to even
notice it in the first place. There was
the slightest widening of her eyes, the way her pupils dilated just a little,
and that stare that could be described vaguely as �blank�, but that would be an
inaccurate description. She wasn�t
staring at nothing; it was if she was staring �through� everything and into
nothing-something�whatever, Jack wasn�t learned in these sorts of matters, but
he was getting there. At that moment,
he knew by that look that Maren was communicating with Kristy.
�Kristy
must�ve been one tall bird, eh?�
�Pardon?�
Maren blinked and the look completely vanished in an instant, then she
focused her attention on Jack.
�Kristy,�
he repeated in a slur, the gold of his teeth protruding, �Lofty bit o� skirt,
am I right?�
Ghost and
medium exchanged curious glances.
Maren�s head cocked to the side in confusion, �How in the world-?�
�Ye stare up
at her,� Jack furthered, bobbing his own head forward to demonstrate, �when ye
�talk� to her.�
A brown
eyebrow arched, interested in Jack�s scrutiny of her, �Do I really?�
�Only a
littl�,� he procured his graceful fingers with a smidgeon of space between the
index and thumb, �Very subtle.�
�Well ye
hit the mark, Cap�n. Kristy stands
�bout half a foot �bove me. She�s got
an inch on ye too. But what God made up
for in stature, He lack�d in substance.
We reckon I probably would�ve outweigh�d her by two stones, in [life] o�
course.�
�Mm,� he
made a noncommittal snort in the back of his throat and started meandering down
the road, pausing to let Maren follow and catch up with him. He strolled with his hands clasped behind
his back and his face upturned towards the clouds. There was a certain nonchalance to his walk, a casual je
d�esprit in his gate that was comical and comforting at the same time.
�Ye�ve yet to explain to me in what matter our dear Kristy depart�d from the
world of flesh and blood,� conversationally, Jack said while plucking an
offending leaf from a passing branch and watching childlike as it floated on
the breeze, skipping and flying to the ground.
�Ye askin�
how she died?�
�Aye, for
curiosity�s sake, luv, humor me.�
There was
the tiniest silence as Jack noticed the look flit briefly over Maren�s features,
then she smiled, �Kristy instructs me to inform ye that she stopp�d breathin�
and subsequently expir�d thereafter- where we goin� anyways?�
The sudden
change of subject was not lost on Jack, but he decided to let it slip for now,
even though his famous curiosity was making his moustache itch. Who would�ve imagined the issue of a ghost�s
demise to be one that was faux pas?
But for the moment, there were other matters that required his
attention, �When ye dream�d that bastard Barbossa�s, god-damn-his-soul,
memories, did ye happen to catch one that involv�d a dungeon, some Spaniards,
lots a convicts, some torture maybe?�
�I do�n
think so,� shaking her head, Jack delighted in the way Maren�s long braid swung
to and fro when she did that particular action and had to suppress the juvenile
urge to pull it. Instead, he made a
mental promise to pull it later, to wrap it around his hand and tug her head
back, slowly yet roughly�to expose that lovely throat and open her mouth in a
helpless gasp�to use the end and tickle the most delectably sensitive spots on
Maren�s peach skin�he coughed, blinking the excellent image of Maren and the
many helpful functions of her hair aside.
�Stay on subject Jack,� he chastised himself. �Would�ve been in his youth?
No? Nothin�?� Maren shrugged and Jack waved it off, �Well
perhaps I should caution ye then. The
ruins we are �bouts to tour are none other then the original fort and prison of
Carcelero. Barbossa spent one year,�
and Jack paused to properly emphasize the dramatics, �of his boyhood here. Needless to state, it was a singularly
volatile time for him. When the
Portuguese and Spaniards sank the Alpha, they mercilessly execut�d every pirate
survivor still in the water. Not that
any pirate would�ve expect�d mercy from a sailor, but still a jackarse thin� to
do, to be sure.�
A warm breeze danced across the
dirt path and Maren noticed that the foliage and brush was growing thicker and
unkempt the further they traveled. Her
stomach felt sickened just from the mention of Barbossa�s name. She kept seeing him bent over poor Bill,
taunting him, or ordering Jack�s abandonment and sensing that lusty enjoyment
as he watched Jack disappear overboard.
She could almost smell his rotting flesh, forcing her to grimace. Jack took notice of her restlessness. �I only share this with ye for insurance
purposes. Last time somethin� remind�d
ye o� Barbossa ye were possess�d by him.
I imagine it best to avoid such an episode, savvy?�
�No worries,� squaring her
soldiers, Maren�s voice was so sharp with confidence it could�ve cut glass, �I know
that son o� a bitch now. He ca�n be
sneakin� ups on me no more.�
�Aye,� behind them, Kristy
rolled her phantom eyes, biting out sarcastically, �and I suppose ye�ll be
doin� this all by yer onesies? No help
from ole Kristy whatsoever?� But
there was no real venom to her bitching, because the dead woman was presently
distracted by Captain Sparrow�s firm arse while he sashayed along. She tilted her head to the side for a better
angle under his overcoat.
�Kristy be on her toes too,� added
Maren, primarily to stop the ghost from complaining. And as much as it was disconcerting, Maren had to ask, �How did
Barbossa survive the attack on the Alpha?�
�He was permitt�d to live,�
absently reaching his arm across Maren�s waist, Jack tugged her to his side and
welcomed the warmth of her, �They spar�d him, because of his age, ye
understand. Pirate o� no, killin� a boy
is a task no Naval man be keen on. He
was all o� thirteen and was the last member of the Alpha crew left alive. Incarcerat�d at Carcelero, in the blackest
oubliette with the most nefarious criminals o� the Caribbean- well, let�s just
say it is most definitely evident where Barbossa acquir�d his madness from.�
A breath of pity sparked in Maren
for the poor boy Barbossa had been in his memory, the bright-eyed youth who had
served Captain Romulus with such unabashed adoration, but it was quickly
replaced by the sound of Barbossa�s cold laugh as Jack was overpowered in the
throws of mutiny. No, no room for mercy
in her heart, not for that monster. Not
when she had experienced the depth of Barbossa�s evil soul herself, �He was
releas�d after a year?�
�Not quite, he escap�d after
a year,� Jack�s head nodded to stress his tone. �Start�d a fire as I recall and disappear�d in the sequential
chaos. Personally, I always suspect�d
it was more o� a suicide attempt rather then some brilliant scheme for exodus,
but damn�d ifen that devil would ever admit somethin� like that,� he whispered
conspiratorially and winked.
�Hey Pet.�
�Aye?�
�Borrow a shillin� from Jack.�
Confused and almost dreading the
answer, Maren turned her face to glance at the ghost over her shoulder, �Why?�
�Cause I wanna see how far it
bounces off that tight bum o� his,� Kristy drooled.
�Honestly, Kristy!�
�Christ, what an arse!�

00000
�And here�s
where I best�d a dubious, young lieutenant and eight o� his men, all arm�d with
pistols and swords, layin� in wait for yers truly. Did I mention they were all in excess o� six feet in height? No?
Well they were, bloody giants the lot o� �em,� bouncing from stone floor
to the rotting wood of a haphazard set of stairs, Jack demonstrated with arms
outstretched towards the horizon, �All the while, there�s the Black Pearl,
swimmin� akin to any shark and pulverizin� the livin� hell out o� the
armaments. It pain�d me sorely to be
apart from her durin� such a climatic engagement, but unfortunately, �twas
unavoidably necessary. I requir�d
skill�d swordsmen for me plan to head four different groups. There was me, Bootstrap, may-his-mum-spit-on-his-grave-Barbossa,
and Mister Warwick, otherwise known as Wart.
Fine fencer, but impossibly ugly.
Lost a leg on that very night, end�d up marryin� a blind woman if I
remember correctly, happily ever after, so on and so forth. God bless Wart, good man.�
The colors of the abandoned fort
were all boney grays and decayed browns like the canvas of a corpse. Little still stood of the once notorious
Carcelero, the guardian of the Caribbean Sea.
Chipped stones still pillared at the corners of rooms with no walls or
ceilings. Weeds grew through the
cobblestones and hearths still stood, lopsided and tipsy. The overall foundation remained, scorched
from a fire, and several wooden beams still managed to bear unseen weight. The so-called �Prison Guard� was but a
forgotten skeleton now.
Normally Maren would�ve found the
scenery rather depressing; however, with Jack skipping around, narrating a
hundred words a minute, enthusiastic and excitable, Maren couldn�t help but be
swept up in his adventures. She
genuinely loved listening to his many epics and anecdotes, the endless lilts
and slurs and bellows of his smoky pallet always hypnotizing her into a stupor. Kristy enjoyed them too. Of course, considering that she couldn�t
eat, drink, or fuck, Kristy was forced to seize upon any sort of entertainment
that presented itself, whether it be �pirate buggery� or �pirate story time�.
�Wait, I be confus�d. Was Bootstrap�s lot still scalin� the wall?�
chewing thoughtfully on her fingers, Kristy glanced around as if the answer
could still seen on the battlements.
�Kristy�s wonderin� what happen�d
to Bootstrap and his team,� Maren spoke up for her. Upon arriving at the ruins, it had become quite apparent that
Jack�s only viable purpose for bringing Maren out here was to show off and
squander an hour�s time. Somehow, Maren
found it very endearing when he was trying to impress her.
If it was even possible, Jack�s
face lit up even more, his grin stretching from ear to ear. While the majority of his tall tales were
well appreciated in generic pubs and interchangeable taverns by strangers, they
were usually avoided by all costs by his mates and friends who were familiar
with his propensity to exaggerate and his tedious ramblings. But not his Maren, not this
delightful, attentive, young woman who would stare at him wide-eyed and
slack-jawed for hours on end! Jack had
a very long list of things he liked; �the Black Pearl� and �a full bottle of
rum� topped the list of course. (�The smell of his mother�s clothes� and
�lullabies� were also high on the list, but there were certain things that
pirates just didn�t admit to.) In fact,
the miraculous combination of �helm and head� had been recently added, though
separately both concepts were already listed in the top twenty. Being �the center of attention� was in the
top ten and �women/the various activities one can perform with women� were in
the top five, yet this category would waver between third and fourth place
depending on when and how hard the last lass had slapped him. In short, Jack craved a woman�s
attention. It complimented his ego
quite nicely and, truth be told, reassured him of his own�interestingness. A pirate couldn�t afford to be boring or god-forbid
mundane!
It was also becoming painfully
obvious that the girl was desperately in love with him. Which granted, had potential for
complications, but was not without some personal benefit. Love and loyalty were an inseparable set of
virtues that could profit his sense of security. Since the mutiny, Jack had yet to actually trust anyone, not
one-hundred-percent at least. He
couldn�t completely trust young Will not to do anything stupid. He couldn�t trust that sod Norrington to
take the bloody boats back to the Dauntless and wait patiently for the bleeding
pirates to come out of the cave, and he was supposed to be a man
of honor for Christ�s sake! And
Elizabeth! He trusted her enough to
fall asleep (pass out) next to her and what happened? She burned the rum! If
that wasn�t the most textbook example of betrayal, then Jack didn�t know what
was! Now the actions of Anamaria,
Gibbs, and the rest of the crew had admittedly shocked him when they had
returned to save him from the Port Royal gallows, but that still didn�t mean he
could absolutely, completely, one-hundred-percent trust them. How many times had Barbossa saved his neck
in their assorted past, only to play Judas to his Jesus when the opportunity
presented itself? No, trust was not
something Sparrow would misplace again, but there was potential in Maren.
Jack had already innocently
inquired on the pastimes of the Black Pearl�s only resident ghost and was
devilishly thrilled to discover that Kristy spent most of her time observing
the men. Consequently, she was privy to
every scrap of gossip and event that occurred outside of the Captain�s
eyesight. This phantom eavesdropper was
the ultimate insurance policy. What
mutiny could possible stir while the men were under constant unseen
surveillance? To add a delicious layer
of safety to his newfound security was the assurance that the medium in charge
of informing him on any insubordination was loyally and utterly in love with
him. It was so good to be so clever!
Still, his plan was not without
some degree of risk. Just as love and
devotion coincide, hate and treachery were bosom buddies as well. It was all a matter of keeping Maren happy,
keeping her in love, which in all honesty, might be a little more difficult
then Jack originally supposed. After
all, his record with happy women was not a stellar one. But of course, he had never had any personal
stake in a woman�s contentment before.
Besides, it wasn�t as if he didn�t
care for Maren. Jack couldn�t deny he
had a certain, strange�affection for her.
He liked the girl�
�liked her a lot, truth be told.
His musings snapped back into
reality and he grabbed Maren by the wrist, tugging her along and down a fallen
hallway. �Look-see here, sweetness,�
Jack raised his arms and hands to indicate a ceiling that was no longer there,
�Imagine if ye will, a storage space between floors right here, a perfect place
to crawl into from the outside and sneak behind enemy lines. That be where ole Bill and his boys were
lyin� in wait. See, back here,� and
Jack leapt into what was essentially a hole in the ground, �was a
stronghold. Weapons, supplies, and
stonewalls would guarantee that the Spaniards could hold out for �nother two
days if need be, mayhap even three.
That would�ve been long �nough for reinforcements to arrive and would�ve
been assuredly disastrous for the overall success of my master scheme.� Theatrically pointing in one direction, Jack
explained, �So Barbossa�s got the east flank,� he pointed in the other
direction, �and I�m pushin� forward from the west. The last organiz�d Spanish resistance is bein� herd�d here, to
retreat in the stronghold. But �fore
they can dig themselves �way like the rats they are, Bootstrap and his lot
leapt down form the ceilin� and cut them off.
Some impressive swordplay and combat ensue and voila,� Jack
literally posed, �An immediate and unconditional surrender was
pronounced.� Maren and Kristy
applauded.
�As for the Pearl,� like a gunshot,
Jack was up and running across a grassy clearing and up the crumbling fortress
walls. �She had sustain�d some damage
while shootin� down these wooden lofts that connect the wings and
armaments. See, o�er here? Knock out these crossovers and all movement
in the fort stops, savvy? A couple
cannonballs tore through her hull, but she was still in good shape. Wart was the one takin� out those bloody
canons�� he bellowed back at her.
�He runs like a sissy,�
snickered Kristy, before floating quickly after Jack. Straying behind and listening to the continuing saga of �the sack
of Carcelero�, Maren strolled along the empty land and caught up at her own
pace. It was a surprisingly peaceful
little patch of ground in the middle of such dank ruins. Green grass stretched and smelled sweet
under her feet, unperturbed except for the single standing doorway that loomed
innocently at the end of the clearing-
�Hey! Hey miss, come here, o�er here!�
Slowly, Maren glanced at the ruined
doorway. It was dark inside, though the
room that it lead to no longer existed, so there technically shouldn�t have
been an �inside� to darken. Still, it
was covered in shadow, curious and foreboding, but empty. Yet even as Maren stared, brow knotted and
eyes squinting, a shape became apparent in that mysterious blackness like
someone approaching through a silver fog.
It was clearly a man, hunched over as if in hiding, �Hullo Miss.�
Immediately, Kristy was at Maren�s
side, �Pet!�
�I sees him,� she watched the
figure jerk when she used her power and his face rose. He had heard her, probably the first
understandable sentence he had heard in a long while and, though she couldn�t
see it clearly, she knew he was smiling.
A flash of sunlight reflected against his eyes, making Maren shiver, �Hey
miss, do ye know where the key is, miss?
Fetch us the key!�
She ignored him, turning about to continue
across the path-
�I know ye can hear me! Miss!!
The KEY! Give me the damn�d key!�
Sighing, Maren stopped without
looking back at him, �I do�n have the key.�
Sometimes a little explanation could move a ghost along-
�Lyin� whore! Give me the fuckin� KEY!!� �and
sometimes it didn�t.
�Here lassie, lassie, laasssiee,�
another one had joined the figure at the door.
This one was bolder; it kept attempting to lean outside, but would turn
away from the light at the last moment, hissing all the while, �I like
lassies, so pretty, so nice. I�m
nicceee.�
�Please!� a hand thrust up
from the ground, startling both Maren and Kristy. It waved frantically back and forth, clawing helplessly at the
air. On closer inspection, Maren saw
that the grassy clearing was not empty at all.
Skylights covered in iron bars lined the empty space on the ground and
as two more ghostly hands started reaching through, Maren realized she was
actually standing on the prison. It was
underground! �Please, �twas an
accident I swear. I ne�er touch�d the
gel!� the owner of the first hand pleaded.
Maren didn�t think it wise to tell
him she knew he was lying.
�The natives be restless,�
kicking harmlessly at an offending hand, Kristy nodded, �We should
leave. There was nasty business here.�
�Laassiee-�
�Please, they let the rats at us
at night!�
�The key o� I�ll cut ye��
Terrible screams arose form one of
the grates, so hysterical it was barely recognizable as human. There were gurgling sounds too, heavy
breathing, whispers-
�-the rats! Their teeth, they gnaw on us at night!�
A third specter, much older then
the others, appeared at the door and its eyes glowed a foreboding yellow in the
darkness, ��get�out��
Uh-oh�
A brief warning to all those who might discover themselves
in a similarly unfortunate situation, the ghostly term �get out� should always
be taken very, very seriously. Consider
it the equivalent of a pistol being cocked between one�s eyes. It is the �end all�, �last word�, �don�t you
dare fuck with me� of the supernatural world.
Usually, Maren was not one to argue.
Ghosts who say �get out� are always very old, very aware, and
always very hateful, but harmless if left alone. Most were not worth her time or effort. Only once had she deliberately defied a �get out� and the ensuing
conflict had knocked Kristy clear back into her haunting place. That time it had been worth the peril, the
spook was four-hundred years old and had become violent. She was nine years old then and still living
back in London on the Low East, and still harboring the incredibly na�ve belief
that her gifts were some benevolent blessing to use for the benefit of
mankind. How things change�
Abruptly, Maren spun about on her heel, deciding it
best to leave these demented spirits to their suffering, and shrieked in
surprise when she collided soundly with Jack.
�Whoa, careful now,� grasping her by the elbows, the
pirate noticed the minute shrinking to her pupils and the pale pallid of her
skin. He had been in the middle of another
more-or-less-accurate description of his victory celebration (pillaging and
plundering) in Carcerlero�s lucrative port, when he became suddenly aware of
Maren�s total lack of attention to his person.
Instead, she had been watching the prison courtyard intently, ignoring
his babbling, which was rude and intolerable in Jack�s stalwart opinion. But now watching her, startled and a tad
breathless, Jack grew concerned. His
dark eyes skittered around the clearing, but of course he saw nothing. �Come on sweetheart, Gibbs�ll be waitin�,�
he tugged at her elbow and wrapped a secure arm about her shoulders.
�Bad things happen�d here,� she whispered as they
walked away, allowing the ghosts� wails to fade.
�Oh God, the rats!�
�Bitch!
The key, we need the key, cunny whore!�
�Oh shut up and stick it where yer uncle did!�
Kristy screamed back, though they couldn�t hear her.

00000
The apothecary�s was a small veiled shop in Carcelero�s
port. Stacks of fresh herbs and colored
bottles were perched atop wooden shelves that lined the gray walls. It was a dry, dark place, yet impeccable
clean, much like its owner; a withered, tan old woman who walked with a limp
but her hands were steadier then any surgeon�s. As the old apothecary weighed some dried cuccos leaves, her
husband sat anxiously at a heavy table.
His eyes would drift from his eldest son by his side to his youngest son
behind the curtains. Absently, he wiped
his sweaty palms on his trousers and readjusted his hold on the firearm under
the table.
Kristy snorted loudly, before turning about and sticking
her head through the wall into the street outside where Jack, Maren, and Gibbs
waited. �There�s a lad behind the
curtain to the far wall with a sword, mighty firm thighs too. The ole fellow�s got a pistol under the
table and there be �nother bloke with a knife tucked �way behind his back, and
what a fine backside �tis too! Not too
bad in the face either. Oh and also an
ole woman, but she do�n look not half-interest�d,� she reported.
Maren relayed this information to the two pirates, except
for the mention of thighs and backsides.
�I warn�d him �bout the weapons,� sighed Gibbs, sneaking
bewildered glances at Maren for the miraculous trick she just performed. Somehow he thought communicating with dead would
be more �mystical�.
�Terrible ole world, innit?� Jack swaggered to the door,
slurring all the way, �Ca�n even trust a traitor to deal some honesty into his
criminal dealings. Honestly, how
rude.� Wrapping at the door, Jack
hollered out, �Good day to ye Mister Izmir.
I�ve with me Mister Gibbs with whom ye are familiar and one Miss Attle,
both unarmed. I am Cap�n Jack Sparrow
and, as always, possess on me person one sword and pistol. Ye may keep yer firearm if it thus secures
your sense of safety. Nonetheless,� and
Jack�s voice dropped to a growl, �yer two men shall immediately and hastily
disarm themselves and may I suggest the fellow behind the curtain present
himself properly o� we shall not do business on this day, savvy?�
From inside, Spanish mutterings were heard, punctuated
with a few bumps and clamors. Jack
grinned. How had he ever managed this
job without a ghost handy?
�Enter por favor, Cap�tain Sparrow,� a voice in accented
English called out.
Thrusting the door open, Jack strode into the
strange-smelling shop and beamed at the four inhabitants. The sword and knife were in plain view on
the table and Izmir had his gun tucked into his belt. �Forgivie�ness please, sir,� Izmir�s hands circulated as he
struggled with his words, �But such times as these�� he shrugged. �Might I ques�ion on how yu knew the
h�appenings of my shop?�
�No,� was Jack�s simple answer. Three potted plants very close to where he sat distracted him for
a moment. They consisted of several
celery-like stalks that sprouted fluffy green leaves. Why Jack hadn�t seen this particular shrub in years, not since
his mother�s had withered! Mindfully,
he touched his brow to the lady apothecary who ignored him in favor of her
cuccos leaves, before he took the one seat before the table. Glancing around, Maren awkwardly wondered
what she was supposed to do with herself since no one in the room gave her a
second glance. She decided to stand
next to Gibbs by the door and tried her damnedest to appear intimidating.
The retired Spanish gunner and the pirate studied
each other in silence for a while.
Izmir had a long white scar that ran lengthwise down the left side of
his haggard face and his smile was even more golden then Jack�s. The man was stout but well muscled with
silver hair. Finally, Jack spoke to
him, curtly and to the point, �I do�n see any maps, Izmir.�
�I do not see any payment, Cap�tain Sparrow,� he
snapped back just as quickly.
They kept staring at each other.
Wordlessly, Jack reached into the breast of his overcoat
and removed a weighty sack. When he
tossed it onto the table, it clinked in the delicious way that only cut gems
can manage. An overwhelmingly gold
smile spread over Izmir�s face and he waved one of his sons forward. The eldest scooped up the coarse sack,
ripping it open, and glared carefully at the contents. Pinching one green jewel in his fingers, he
held it up to the candlelight. The
orange glow leaked and bounced through the stone perfectly. Izmir�s eldest son nodded.
Now the apothecary was finally paying attention to
the events in her shop and when her son nodded, she dusted the bits of soil
from her hands, reaching under her counter where a leather satchel had been
secured. The old woman limped over to
Jack, handing the package over with a grunt.
�Gracias Senora,� Jack positively purred while he tore open the satchel
and thumbed through the parchments inside.
For many minutes, he was silent, holding up the papers to the light,
comparing ink stains, studying the handwriting and assorted signatures. He even tasted the paper, though what he
could�ve been checking for was beyond Maren.
At last he seemed satisfied, �I trust that Commodore Cruz will not miss
these documents and change procedure accordingly?�
Something about Jack�s question made Izmir and his
sons laugh. �Beg yur pardon,
Cap�tain. I aszure yu, these
papers will not be miszed,� clearing his throat, Izmir�s lips straightened,
�espe�sially by Commodore Cruz who has been, shall we say �relocated�?�
�His sheer incompetence finally did him in, then?�
�Unofficially.�
�Under whose directory has la Cabra Robado been
�unofficially� assign�d to?�
Izmir frowned, �Cap�tain Sandoval.�
�The Bastard?� Gibbs gasped from the door, startling
Maren.
�Si,� answered the old gunner, never taking his eyes
from Jack.
�Fuck,� striking the tabletop with his fist, Jack
absorbed this new dilemma, �I thought he was brought up on charges. Insubordination and disobedience and let�s
not forget murder?�
The old man shrugged, �Dismiszed.�
�Me arse, �dismiss�d,� Jack tucked the pages that
detailed the Spanish Fleet�s routes into the satchel, �What the devil is the
matter with the world�s navies these days?
Two-hundred years �go they would�ve hang�d him on the spot, no questions
ask�d.�
�No sir,� Izmir corrected, �Two-hundred year� ago,
he would have been a Conquistador.�
�No shit.
Ne�er mind it, I suppose it ca�n be help�d now,� standing, Jack
respectfully shook Izmir�s hand, but before releasing him, Jack stared him
straight into the eye and grinned manically, �If these papers turn out to be
forgeries o� ifen ye tip off Sandoval, I wo�n go after ye,� Jack�s eyes fell on
the two sons, �I go after them.
Understand?�
Slowly so Jack could see his sincerity, Izmir nodded
and the pirate abruptly released his hand.
�Excellent,� he was cheerful again, holding up a ringed finger, �but one
more thin�, if ye please. Oh
Senora?� Addressing the apothecary,
Jack flirtingly leaned against her counter and spoke in fluent Spanish, �*Have
my senses taken leave of me or is that perchance silphium on the shelf over
there?*� He waved to the three plants
that had caught his attention earlier.
The apothecary�s lips twitched and she nodded, her
eyes darting briefly to Maren, �*The Captain has a sharp eye for botany. After all, this specimen only comes from
Europe and does not grow in the wild anymore.*�
It was a testimony to Jack�s charisma that one of
his saucy winks still made an arthritic, old woman blush like a maiden. �*My mother had four when I was a child,*�
he drawled sexily.
�*Four?*� the apothecary seemed taken aback, but
this time she was fully and toothlessly smiling at him, �*Tell me, was your
mother truly in need of such a surplus amount?*�
Leaning in closer, he whispered,
�*Abundantly.*� She cackled in the
carefree way of old women everywhere who know to take laughs when they can get
them. �*I would like to purchase one of
your hearty silphium, if you would be so kind?*� Jack really caught her
attention then.
Her white eyebrows rose, �*Surely the Captain is
aware that silphium,*� she spoke carefully, �*is worth its weight in gold?*�
�*Agreed,*� his hands disappeared into his assorted
pockets and produced five gold crowns.
Tactfully, he placed them in front of the apothecary, blinking
innocent. Izmir and his sons watched
intently as the apothecary stared at the gold coins and snorted.
From the door, Maren also watched curiously while
the old woman hobbled over to her many shelves and picked up a strange
shrub. The conversation between Jack
and the apothecary was a mystery to Maren, since it far excelled the extent of
Spanish she knew, but it appeared as if Jack had purchased a plant of some
sort, an extremely expensive plant of some sort. The old woman limped right past Jack and
huffed her way to Maren instead.
�He�e,� the pot was unceremoniously shoved into her arms and Maren
struggled to understand the woman�s broken English, �Lissen senorita, yu pick
stalk, yes? Take leaf�s off stalk. Dry leaf�s.
Boil stalk in water. Take water
an� make the tea with dry leaf�s.
Every week yu do this, si?�
Maren became aware of everyone in the room looking at her expectantly.
�Uh,� she managed, �all right.�

00000
�Reckon we gots littl� over three hours �til the sun goes
down and Anamaria brings the men,� from around his neck, Gibbs procured his
trusty flask, �So what shall we do to kill time �til then, Jack?�
Appearing thoughtful and wicked, Jack literally started
twirling his moustache.
�Jaa-ack,� Maren whined, still glaring at the stupid
shrub in her arms, �What she give me this for, eh? It�s not even pretty!�
�That,� Jack said, never losing his devious expression,
�is goin� to prevent the inopportune arrival o� any clairvoyant littl�
Sparrows.�
�What the devil-,� things abruptly clicked in Maren�s
head, �-oh, thanks, I guess.�
�Us�d a sea sponge meself. Minds ye, �tis a messy business removin� the damn thin� and you
could�n always keep it clean-.�
�Trust me, me mum swears by it and who�d know better then
�Madame Diamanta� herself?� Jack was using his incubus smile again, trailing
his hands up and down Maren�s arms and cooing in her ear, �Maren, somethin�
I�ve been meanin� to ask ye. Have ye
and Kristy ever play�d�cards?�

00000
Silphium: ancient Greek medicinal plant. Unlike most oral contraceptives of the time,
this one claimed to be preventive. The
plant was so well used it is extinct now.

Translations- Carcelero �Prison Guard�

- Cabra Robada �The Stolen Goat�

Well I�m more then halfway through the fic and I finally mentioned
my villain. Keep an eye on Captain
Alejandro Sandoval; he just might be one of those darkly sexy villains! (Come on, Jack needs to be kept on his
toes!)
Years of Cheers,
Thanks a Lot,
Citadel
- 27
- 28
- 29
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The Haunting Place

Chapter Twenty-eight: Carcelero

Translations- Carcelero �Prison Guard�