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The Flying Dutchman	By : BrethlessM Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 3366 -:- 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
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A/N: Thanks for the review! - Kimberlee
Chapter Three
The day was overcast, but still pleasantly warm. A light breeze whipped the smell of salt from the sea all around the port city - a constant reminder of the means by which so many of its residence made their livelihood. Men in bright red coats with white bandoleers passed through the streets of the town amid sailors, merchants, and an even larger percentage of women, procuring the necessities to support the lives of their loved ones or employers.

Port Royal was a city rich in history, with enough stories of excitement and adventure to satisfy the mind of a young boy born to pirates. Fed on the tales of his parent�s own intrigues upon the sea, if young William Turner had any doubts that his future lay before the mast, they were soon put to rest by the boy�s natural inclination towards all things nautical. At the age of nine the child was already proficient in the language of maps, charts, and sailor jargon. He could climb to the top of any mast his mother would let him near, and his growing skill with knots was enough by itself to earn him the attention of the sailors in port he so loved to emulate.

He had never been under any delusions about who and what his parents were. It was a legend as familiar to him as those of Blackbeard or Bartholomew. His mother had told him everything about their lives before his birth from the moment he�d been old enough to ask, and he was fiercely proud of his family�s legacy� even if it was something he could never tell anyone else.

Elizabeth had raised William well, and she�d never once allowed him to think that there was anything shameful about his existence - a fact not lost on the boy, despite his age. Pirates were not favorable companions to anyone but pirates, and William knew this well enough to keep his secrets close to his chest, where he could savor them in private.

No one knew more about pirates than he � one of the many qualities he�d inherited from his mother. His exuberance for the romance of life on the high seas was not tarnished by his knowledge of the ugliness of pirate life, for he knew the unsavory details just as well as the exciting ones. It was the actual fact of pirate life � the undeniable and unavoidable reality of swashbuckling buccaneers in his universe, that fed William�s hunger for the sea.
He was the son of pirates. His father�s father had been a pirate before him, and even his mother�s father had been a sailor � although with the Royal Navy. He was not born during a typhoon, as his parents� friend Captain Sparrow was reputed to have been, but he had salt in his blood as surely as did every pirate who�d roamed the seven seas.

His mother knew it, and to her credit, she�d never tried to dissuade William from the life he�d been irrevocably drawn to from birth. She kept no secrets from her son, knowing that a pirate�s life, while not one she would have realistically chosen for her child in light of her own working knowledge of its nature, was one that called to a person with the voice of a siren. She prepared him with all she thought necessary for the bearer of his pedigree to know, and raised him to be a good, honest, and noble young man � with a strict regard for personal hygiene. Were he to follow his path into a life of piracy, the least she could hope to say of him was that he would remember to bathe with greater frequency then the men she�d had cause to associate with in her past.
She often wondered, though she felt she knew, what Will would think about her choices regarding their son. Elizabeth remember clearly her husband�s repulsion for pirates, born out of resentment for the father who�d abandoned him for the sea when he�d been no older than William. Despite their history as pirates themselves, she feared that Will would be horrified to know that she was practically giving William her blessing to follow in their footsteps, even going to far as to train him in the use of a sword.

No one though, could spend any length of time with young William and deny his natural aptitude for the life of a sailor, and it would have been foolish, not to mention hypocritical, of Elizabeth to try and deter him from his interests. Though she wished for him a longer and safer life than those afforded to seafarers, she knew from experience that keeping him from what he was attracted to would only serve to push him further into the exploration of said desires. Elizabeth was the first to acknowledge the allure of piracy, which she had bequeathed to her son.
And were she quite honest, Elizabeth would admit that she would have been disappointed had William not been drawn into the romance that had come to define her own life. She was proud of him, and no mother could have wanted her son�s happiness more, then that she was willing to support him in even this most unusual of endeavors. She was, after all, a pirate herself. There was no denying that.
As the two of them walked the streets of Port Royale stopping here and there to examine rolls of fabric or to procure the costly but needful citrus fruit, which Elizabeth would offer to visiting sailors, the pair were greeted with the kind familiarity due to well-known members of the community. They returned these greetings with equal warmth, both mother and son aware of the secrets lying beneath the veneer of their respectability.
The basket in William�s arms was heavy with the loaves of warm bread he and his mother had spent the morning baking, but despite the load he managed to keep his usual skipping gait beside his mother, who walked with the sure stride of one accustomed to authority and unafraid of reprisals. It was an attitude that caused all who saw her to obey the unspoken power, and yet never be aware of its implications.
It was an attitude that William, all knees and feet, longed to grow into as he approached his tenth birthday in the coming year. Shifting the weight of the basket from one arm to another, he twitched with impatience as his mother stopped yet again, this time to examine a barrel of nuts just outside the door of the last store on the street leading down to the docks � their ultimate destination.
Their weekly trip to the port that had given birth to their city was looked forward to with as much anticipation by the mother as her son. William knew this, and yet could not understand why, when the time came to actually make the trip down to the docks, she always seemed to lag a step behind him, as if to forestall the actual moment of arrival. She lived for the sea - William saw the longing in her eyes as they stood on the cliffs overlooking the waters just near their home each evening - but the scarcity of years to his name could not interpret the ache that lay hidden at the bottom of those orbs, which ended in a pool seated heavily in her heart.
With her new purchases added to the top of the basket in her own hands, Elizabeth smiled down at her son, and without a word turned their steps towards the docks. Her attitude changed in the moments between their departure from the city and their arrival in the world of sailors and seadogs; she became harder, more solid, and the vague smile that was her usual expression sharpened into a wicked curve of her lips that made William�s heart race with excitement. She was Elizabeth the Pirate King in these moments, and it was a side of his mother that William would never tire of seeing.
The legitimate sailors, merchant ships mostly, always came first - they never visited the Royal Navy vessels, if it could be helped. It was from William�s basket that these men were fed, and they were always happy to greet the beautiful woman and her eager young son when they came to visit. Those who docked here frequently knew both William and Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was content to take up her seat on a wooden stump while keeping an eye on her child as the sailors came to her for conversation or some of the medical service she could offer.
In the ten years since bidding good-bye to her own life on the sea, Elizabeth had become proficient in her knowledge of medicine and minor surgery. What had begun as something to keep herself busy, and to bolster a mother�s knowledge in the care of a sure to be rambunctious child, had swiftly turned into what would have been considered a trade, had she been a man. Instead, Elizabeth had aimed her talents towards the harbor, tending to seamen of all breeds who had limited access to treatment for a variety of maladies and injuries.

While a bevy of men came to sit at her feet and talk, lonely for the companionship of a female with open ears, others came to have wounds stitched, exotic diseases diagnosed, and herbal remedies given for everything from nausea to venereal diseases. Elizabeth was seen as an angel to these men, and William, whose father was known only as a long-traveling sailor, was treated to an endless stream of tales of high-sea adventures and lessons in a variety of skills.

He followed them, attentive to each and every task they preformed both on ship and off. William always asked if they had heard tell of his father, William Turner, but he was not surprised when they apologetically shook their heads in denial. As his mother had once told him, if they had heard of Captain Turner, they would no longer be able to tell any mortal soul about the encounter.

William and Elizabeth spent the entire afternoon at the docks � much longer than they�d admit to anyone who knew them in town. It was a time of communion for the pair, and amid all of their secrets, it was this time more than any other that defined their lives. Though they could not be on the seas, neither could they stay away from it.

But it was as afternoon became evening, and the sun sunk low enough in the sky to cast a pink and orange glow across the horizon, that the young boy and his mother turned towards a small stretch of beach, uninhabited by most and unknown to any except the few pirates who chose to land their longboats in the cove away from the city proper in order to hide their arrival and departure. It was a place to restock, a place to rest without fear of discovery, and it was a place that Elizabeth took her son to do their most important work.

They did not always find signs of pirates among the sand and rocks of the small inlet. The cove was not visible from land at any point save the cliff near their house, but those who used the beach as a safe point of landing were proficient at hiding their comings and goings from the eyes of the Royal Navy. Pirate crews changed members with an unsurprising frequency, but after ten years it was no longer a secret that Mrs. Turner was an ally to the pirates who visited her shores, and often signals would be left for Elizabeth when they came to call.

Patterns in the sand, or random objects place in not so random arrangements were the most frequent signals that visitors were sheltered nearby, but often, in their late night sojourn to the cliffs before bidding goodnight to the day, William would see a timely flash of light from the inlet, and these sightings were always followed the next day by what he considered their �pirate adventures.�

There had been such a signal the night before, and though William never questioned the flaming sightings, he knew from experience, and the smell of baking bread that greeted him upon wakening, that such a visit was on the agenda for the day.

Getting to the cove involved a short walk through the water around a rocky outcropping that hid the small expanse of beach from view. It was sufficiently jagged enough to prevent ships unaware of its existence from getting close enough to catch sight of any pirate vessels sheltered therein, and not even the Royal Navy dared come near enough to search it. William had the suspicion that those who policed the shores of their home were willing to let the pirates use the hostile shelter, so long as they ventured no closer to civilization than that.

Picking his way over bits of driftwood sprawled in the sand, William forced himself to wait for his mother to catch up every few minutes, weighted down by the burden of her still full basket. The length of her dress was tucked up around her waist to prevent them from getting wet, and she had not yet replaced her boots, the length of which she had tucked beneath her arm along with William�s own shoes.

�Is this it?� William asked suddenly, rushing towards a collection of crossed sticks and various seashells arranged in the sand just far enough away from the greedy fingers of the surf. Elizabeth stopped to examine the runes, biting her lower lip in concentration.

�Yes� they�re in the Diamond Caves,� she announced, finding some meaning in the pattern of debris. �It�s a bit further on than usual, but it appears that there�s more than a few ships there now,� her eyes narrowed in thought.
William studied his mother�s expression. �They must need better shelter if there are so many of them. Why do you think they all came together?�
Scanning the coast, his mother shook her head absently. �I�m not sure� pirates don�t often congregate in large groups, unless�.� She trailed off with a shake of her head. Tearing her gaze away from the water and smiling at her son, she tilted her head in the direction they were going to take. �Well, for whatever reason they�re here, they�re sure to be in need of food and medicine. Are you prepared to face a hoard of scurvy pirates, Master Turner?�
William�s grin unknowingly mirrored that of his father�s most mischievous. �Aye, Captain!� he said. �Let�s give these bully�s a royal welcome to our shores.�
He did not notice that, as his mother put her boots back on, she checked the hidden sheath within the leg to make sure that the concealed blade was in its place. Helping him on with his own boots, Elizabeth took William�s hand safely in hers before setting out again, around another rocky cliff-face and then another.
Their own house, high above, was almost visible from an angle now, and Elizabeth realized that if they were to creep to one edge of their cliff and peer over the side, the pirate gathering would be nearly beneath them.
And a gathering it was. No less than five pirate vessels were moored along the beach, as close as the shallows of the water would safely allow. The cove was larger than any of the others around, and therefore a riskier hideout for pirates, but none of the others would hold the sheer number of them that were now ranged along the beach.
Close to three hundred men traveled back and forth between their respective ships, lugging supplies or giving orders. Though generally dressed the same, it was easy to tell one crew from the other by the way the men either hung together, or glared uncertainly at those nearby.
William had never seen so many pirates in one place in all his life, and he had only heard of such a vast number of pirates all together at one other time � the meeting of the Lords of the Brethren Court. Unconsciously, William grasped his mother�s hand just a little tighter, and looked at her face in time to see her lips purse together into a grim, tight line.
Without comment, Elizabeth made her way towards the nearest vessel, a galley ship with the name �Crimson Bride� painted in peeling red paint on the hull. It was a ship William had seen several times in his memory. The Bride�s Captain, a Spaniard called Captain Dulce due to his deceptively boyish face, stood close in velvet coattails, barking orders to his crew. Sensing Elizabeth and William�s approach, he turned around with an aura of coiled energy, hand immediately on the pistol at his waist. He relaxed when he saw them.
�Captain Swann,� he said with a gleaming grin and an almost formal bow. �I must say, we be gratified by your presence.�
Elizabeth returned the smile with an acknowledging nod of her head at the neck. William thought it very regal, and he mimicked it precisely. �It�s good to see you, Rodrigo. Although I profess, I�m surprised by the size of your entourage on this voyage.� Her eyes once more scanned further down the beach.
�Aye,� Captain Dulce replied grimly, shooting a glance at young William. �It seems the Bride�s not the only vessel who be seeking out the friendly waters of Captain Swann�s harbor,� he said cryptically, eyes following Elizabeth�s gaze.
Her eyes shot back to the pirate�s. �It�s hardly my harbor,� Elizabeth allowed herself an ironic smile that undermined her denial. �But I�m still not sure I understand what you mean - is there a threat I should know about?� she asked.
Captain Dulce searched Elizabeth�s eyes seriously, and William thought he could see the fear hidden just behind the pirate�s camaraderie. �It be nigh on ten years since that husband of yours took on the mantle of responsibility for the Dutchman, and the souls of those lost to the seas,� he began slowly, with another cautious glance at William. �Knowing Captain Swann�s sterling character, it appears to be the consensus that a replacement for the good Captain Turner will be becoming a necessity in due time. And not knowing how the passing of said mantle will come about��
�Everyone�s coming here,� Elizabeth finished. �Did it not occur to anyone that, as I and his son are here, that Port Royal might be the very last place to look for safety?� The smile twisting her lips with humor did not quite reach her wary eyes.
A bellowing laugh burst from Captain Dulce. �I can�t be saying for the rest of these dogs, my lady, but on me own behalf, I�ll owe that I was gambling on Your Grace, and our� shall we say, acquaintance, to keep me out of harm�s way.�
A real smile lit Elizabeth�s face this time, and her seeking glance finally settled on Dulce�s sparkling, yet troubled eyes. �Would that the decision were in my hands, Captain, your safety would be most assuredly preserved.� Saying her goodbyes, Elizabeth gently tugged on her son�s hand and led him to a likely spot for them to hold Court - where they could be easily seen and recognized by all.
It was not long before men from the collection of ships began making their way towards his mother, but William did not hurry off as he normally would. He sensed, both from his mother�s demeanor and the conversation between her and Captain Dulce, that it would be best to wait for a bit before taking off as he would like to.
The needs of the pirates were little different from those of the tradesmen they�d spent the afternoon with, only greater in necessity. William watched his mother clean and stitch a festering wound on one man�s arm, scolding the pirate all the while, telling to at least attempt to clean the thing frequently, unless he�d prefer her to amputate it the next time. The vile smelling man glared at her with a look that would have reduced lesser men than his mother to tears, but then winced as she severed the thick thread holding his skin together with her teeth and a firm tug. The other men waiting their turn laughed.
Though anxious to go exploring beyond the range of his mother, William was not bored by her side. When not watching her nimble fingers attend to a barrage of maladies, or listening to her stern instructions on further treatment, the boy was, as usual, the center of attention and an object of great interest to the other pirates nearby. Those who had met him before were familiar with his entrancement with the sea, and found in him an eager ear for their stories. William occasionally received an exotic trinket from them, brought from lands he somehow knew he�s see someday.
Those who had only heard tell of the son of Captain�s Turner and Swann from other pirates, were often eager to meet the boy who they seem to think embodied the very spirit that had sent them into the arms of the sea so long ago. He did not know it, but he already had the reputation of a young prince among pirates, and stories of the adventures he�d not yet even dreamed of taking were often whispered in the drunken hours on Tortuga or other such havens, as though he were a kind of messiah to their tribe.
It was not too much later that a glance and a small nod from his mother freed him from her watchful eye, and William escaped swiftly down to the shore to watch the pirate crew�s work. Their laughter and muttered oaths colored the air, and though he was too small to help with such arduous tasks as the older men were engaged with, he allowed himself to daydream that one of them would notice in his something no one else had; something that would make him not just the son of a pirate king, but a pirate in his own right.
Recognizing one of the pirates taking a moment�s rest nearby, William moved to join him near the water�s edge when something shiny caught his attention from the rocks edging the cove beyond. Focusing his gaze on that distant place, he could see nothing that would have caused such a flash of light, but curiosity drew him in that direction. Though it had been many years since anything of value had been drawn from the belly of these caves, they had not been named the Diamond�s for nothing.
Walking near the shore where water had made the sand firmer, and therefore easier to walk upon, William hurried towards the rocks, remembering to be cautious in his approach only as he began climbing over the jagged edges of the first few stones along the border. Finding a stick that looked to have once been used as a torch by previous visitors, William took it in hand as a weapon, just in case one proved to be needed.
Finding a level surface upon which to edge around the corner of the outcropping, William pressed his stomach close to the rock face, feeling the cold scrape of it against his belly through his shirt. He briefly imagined his mother�s face when she say the condition he would be in after this adventure, and he only hoped that he�d find something in his explorations to make the risk worth while.
The toe of William�s boot struck rock as the ledge he�d been sliding along ended, and risking a look down and behind him, William chanced to drop onto a rock just below. He landed on his feet, but one ankle twisted beneath the weight of his body, and he fell. Sputtering a word his mother would have punished him for saying had she heard it, William poked at the bone with his fingers, deciding with satisfaction and relief that it was not broken.
Before he could stand, a shadow passed over the boy, and William groped for the stick he�d been carrying before realizing he must have dropped it in the fall. Looking up, he tried to set his face into the expression that covered his mother�s when he disobeyed her, and found instead that he needed to squint directly into the setting sun, which he was sure ruined the effect he was aiming for.
A pirate stood before him � William could guess that by the smell alone. The halo of the sun was just behind the man�s head, obscuring his features from observation, but the boy could see that he was fit, moderately tall, with a tri-cornered hat covering his bandana adorned head. The man must have smiled because gold suddenly shone from where William expected his mouth would be. He was sure that this was not a man he�d met before, and a distinct wave of uncertainty fluttered through his belly as the man spoke.
�Well, well, well, and what would a lad such as yourself be doing out here all by his onesie?�
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The Flying Dutchman