Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Savarna	By : BrethlessM Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 5383 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
- 4
A/N: Hello everyone! I had to move some stuff from one storage place to another this Sunday/Monday, and I've been in pain ever since! I wanted to finish this chapter sooner, but I've been too achy to write, and I fall asleep from the pain medication whenever I got a moment to work on it! Hopefully it's not too loopy, but if you notice anything wrong, let me know and I'll fix it. I hope you enjoy the chapter and don't worry... I won't let us hang too long after this one! Thanks for all the support - please keep reviewing! I love it! - Kimberlee
Chapter Three

She sat in a golden birdcage, dressed in that God-awful corseted thing she�d been wearing the day James Norrington had proposed to her � the day she�d first fallen from the fort into the sea, only to be rescued by the infamous pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow. Despite the hot sun and lack of breeze, she held a cup of tea in her hands that never seemed cool enough to take into her parched mouth; not that she could raise her hand that high anyway. She was also shackled to a mast that grew up through the middle of her cage.

And though solitude would have been hell enough for Elizabeth Turner, formerly Swann, she was not alone. At least, she didn�t seem to be; it was getting harder for her to remember what was real anymore. From somewhere nearby, she could hear her son William crying, but no matter how loudly she called his name he never answered her, and eventually he would quiet his sobs for a time.

Her cage floated in the center of a very small circle of water, no more than twenty feet in diameter. Beyond that on all sides was an endless expanse of desert that she recognized as belonging to someone else�s hell, but was now a part of her own. She would never reach that barren soil though, for besides the manacles and the locked cage, there was another barrier preventing her freedom.

Even as she thought of it, her cage bobbled a little in the water, and tentacles reached over the base and between the bars of her prison. Elizabeth clung as tightly to the center mast as she could while the creature from below groped for her. At first she had believed it to be the Kraken, here to torment her for an act she claimed not to regret, but now she feared it was something even worse. She closed her eyes tightly and pressed them against her forearm but not before she saw a familiar ring tightly binding one of the smaller appendages � it was the one she�d given her new husband on the beaches of Port Royal before he�d left on his ten-year voyage.

When she closed her eyes, Elizabeth could hear Will�s breathing, rough with anger, coming from all around her. But how could that be Will, when she could hear his and Jack�s angry voices ringing through the air, mingled with the clang of swords? They were constantly fighting, and always about her. Still, she couldn�t help remembering the fate of Davy Jones, Bootstrap Bill, and all the other poor souls who had served aboard the Flying Dutchman as once again the questing tentacles retreated into the water.

Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw something moving in the water around her. Floating in a small boat, she could have swore it was a stately figure in a blue coat and a white wig, staring at her forlornly, but whenever she turned her head to look, there was only the same nothing she saw everywhere else.

She feared she was going mad, and yet, how would she know? Jack had been delirious when they�d found him in the Locker, and he�d been here for months. How long had it been since she�d thrown herself into the sea, only to find herself trapped here? Were the voices coming at her from every angle in her head, or part of her punishment? She suspected the latter, which meant that she wasn�t insane � at least not yet.

The sound of William crying began again and as always, Elizabeth�s first impulse was to pull furiously at the cuff around her wrist, trying to break free and go find her son. Sometimes she called out to Jack or Will, begging them to go to him, but she knew it was hopeless � they were not really there. None of this was real. And yet, she was here; she was real, so what else was?

It all came back around to the question of her sanity, which, for a lack of anything else to do, had become the main object of Elizabeth�s ruminations, for she could not allow herself to dwell on anything else. She refused to think of Will, for if she did she would mourn him, curse him, and wonder if she had indeed been able to save him. She could not think of William, for then she would cry, knowing that she had failed him. Nor could she think of Jack, for though she wanted to hate him for what had happened she could not; it had been her fault more than his, and the days when she could blame him for everything in her life that had not gone according to plan were at an end.

Then of course, there were other reasons she could not allow herself to remember Jack, for although it made her feel guilty, thoughts of him were accompanied by feelings of longing and desire such as she had never felt for Will. She had loved her husband truly, but it was useless to deny that Jack could awaken things within her that she had never felt before. Yet she had left him the way Will had left her. It had been the right thing to do, and yet she could not help wondering where she would be now if she hadn�t jumped.

There was no night in Elizabeth�s hell, but eventually her body would succumb to sleep, and when it did, they were Jack�s eyes that she saw, and she saw in them every possible emotion. There was outrage - such as she�d seen when she�d burned all the rum on the island. There was mischief - such as when he�d asked her to put on his belt and hat when he�d taken her hostage the first day they�d met. There was sorrow � the last image of his eyes she�d ever seen.

But it was another remembrance of Jack�s eyes that Elizabeth most often recalled in her dreams. It was the way they looked after they�d kissed in Port Royal, just before her death. His eyes � normally the color of chamomile tea with just enough honey stirred in to give them a rich warmth � had darkened in that moment to the color of chocolate. They had been heavy with desire, and something else she was not foolish enough to name.
Those eyes haunted her, and it was the ghost of those eyes in her mind that made Elizabeth so vigilant over the condition of her sanity, for now, every time she woke, she could hear herself talking. She had begun talking to herself, and today she�d awoken while uttering the words, �Of course he�ll come for me� you�ll see� he�ll come� he�ll come�.�

Gibbs had always been a superstitious man, something he�d taken a fair share of gibes for over the years. However, the fact that the rest of the Pearl�s crew were now muttering oaths under their breaths along with him, did nothing to make him feel any better. It had been three weeks � only three short weeks � since they�d left Jamaica, and when Gibbs had come on deck to relieve the morning watch shortly before dawn he�d stopped dead at the sight of land on the horizon.

�Mother of Heaven,� someone behind him breathed, and Gibbs reflexively crossed himself along with several others. They should not be here. Unless he was very much mistaken, the island of Madagascar lay straight ahead; they were at least one month ahead of schedule. It was impossible, and yet�.

Expecting to see young Frederic - the new helmsman Jack had acquired at sword-point after Cotton�s death � manning the wheel for the morning watch, Gibbs was surprised to find Jack there instead. He was so focused on their destination that he did not notice the first watch�s arrival. One of his hands was in place upon the wheel, but the other one was absently fingering the small, red bead in the shape of a mermaid which he had worn attached to a chicken�s foot and some small animal�s tail for as long as Gibbs had known him.

Gibbs slowly approached his Captain, dimly aware that all eyes were on him. Jack didn�t notice him until he was standing right beside him. �Morning, Captain,� Gibbs began.

Jack smiled � the first genuine smile Gibbs had seen on his face in more than a month. �Joshamee, old man! I hope you slept well � we have a busy day ahead of us.�

�Um� yes, Captain,� Gibbs said, not sure how to continue.

He didn�t have to. �I couldn�t sleep last night, so I gave Frederic the night off. We made good time around the Cape during the night and we should reach port just before the eighth bell.�

Gibbs nodded grimly. �Then you�re certain that�s Madagascar we�re approaching?� he asked.

�I�d know it in my sleep,� Jack confirmed.

�Hmmm,� Gibbs reached for the crucifix that he hadn�t worn around his neck in nearly thirty years. �You don�t think, Captain, that it�s been rather too short a time for us to have reached the Indian Ocean?�

Jack looked him in the eye, and for a moment Gibbs swore he saw something furtive hiding there before Jack answered, �We�ve had a fair wind and a following sea all the way, and with me at the helm, the Pearl might as well sprout wings.� He smiled, and Gibbs fought a shiver. �Don�t be so skittish, Mate,� Jack added. �you can be a right old maid sometimes.�

�Aye, Captain.� Not feeling any easier, but with nothing he could do about it, Gibbs made to take over the helm and Jack hesitated only a second before stepping aside. Taking measure of their distance, the current, and the wind, he saw that Jack was right; they�d be able to reach Jack�s homeland by noon. Gibbs resisted the urge to cross himself again, especially since the men on his watch were all still staring at him and Jack. �Jump lively, you indolent dawcocks � to your several duties! We�ll be reaching Port Toamasina in eight hours!�

Jack, who had been walking away, headed towards the mess, suddenly spun around with his hands out in front of him as if to say �stop�. �No!� He said to Gibbs in a panicky voice. �No, no, no� not Toamasina. That�s a bad idea� very bad.�

Gibbs frowned. �But� Toamasina is the main port� if we�re going to restock, there�s no sense in going anywhere else.

Jack was adamant. �No � put in to Fenoarivo Atsinanana. It�s only a mere one hundred kilometers further north and will have everything we need.�

�But, Captain - �

�Belay, Mr. Gibbs,� Jack snapped. Gibbs� eyes widened. �See to it,� and with that, he disappeared.

Gibbs watched him go, and couldn�t help wondering what exactly they were in for. Whatever it was, he was sure that the sooner they acquired their provisions and returned to the Pearl, the better off they�d be.

It had just struck seven bells, and William knew that in half an hour, they would be docking in a land far more exotic than the tropical island he�d grown up on. His mother had often told him about her own childhood in London and by comparison, he�d imagined that no place on Earth could be quite as exciting as the island of Jamaica, where the waters were blue as sapphires and the wilderness encroached upon the doorstep of their civilized town. It was all he had ever known, and even from the deck of the Black Pearl, William could tell that his knowledge of such things was greatly lacking.

The quickly growing coastline was lush and green, and though William was accustomed to tropical forests, there was a wildness to Madagascar that made it seem older somehow; more primal. Bright white beaches sparkled in the light of the sun, and steep mountain blocks rose up into a haze of fog that lingered there like a halo.

His attention was caught by a massive object in the ocean towards his right and when he turned to look, William found that the ship had been joined by two enormous whales. William was in awe. There were whales in the Caribbean but he had never had the opportunity to see one before. The pair swam together, moving around each other as if chasing one another and he laughed for what felt like the first time in months.

�They�re humpbacks,� Jack said as he came up behind William, wanting to know what had caused him such delight. �They come here to mate during the summer.�

�They�re beautiful,� William said. �I�ve never seen one before.�

Jack nodded. �It�s good luck to see them at sea � even better luck if they jump, or flip their tales at us.� He watched for a moment in silence. �The Malagasy call them Zagnaharibe � �Great Gods� � they�re highly respected.�

A low, echoing moan rose from the pair in the water and William looked to Jack to explain. The pirate was smiling. �They�re singing to us,� he explained.

�Are they in love?�

Jack�s smile faded slightly. �Don�t know that it works that way, Mate. Love�s a difficult thing to define. They�ll stay together months � maybe years, but that�s rare. While they�re together though, he�ll never leave her side.� He paused for a moment, thinking. �He probably sees us as competition.�

William�s expression grew a little melancholy. �That�s sad,� he said.

�I don�t know,� Jack folded his arms. �Some people in this world never find love at all. I suppose that love, even if only for a few days, is better than none at all.

Sensing the brooding quality that had entered Jack�s voice, William snuck a look at his face. Jack was lost in thought. Before he could say a world though, the larger of the two whales leapt into the air, twisting before diving back beneath the waves. Thrilled, William shrieked with laughter, and when he looked at Jack again, the pirate was grinning; the pensiveness had passed.

�Good luck� right, Uncle Jack?�

�Aye, Mate. That�s right.�

The small port of Fenoarivo Atsinanana was unlike anything William had ever known. An old, rickety dock jutted out into the water, but at low tide, the Black Pearl had been pulled right onto the beach. The cove was dotted with dugouts filled with fishermen, and a group of dark-skinned children ran up and down the beach putting shellfish into buckets. Palm trees formed a line nearby and just beyond, William could see the spires of a church.

Jack was nearby, talking with one of the islanders in what sounded like French while the rest of the crew tended to the ship. For the moment, William went unnoticed, and he realized it was the first time since he�d joined the crew of the Pearl that someone wasn�t focused on what he was doing.
In all the chaos that had followed his mother�s death, William had never been allowed a moment alone in which to dwell on his loss. Jack had allowed him all the time he needed to think about things, but always when the two of them were alone together, separated only by the cavern of their sorrow. At any other time though, William was kept busy working with the crew. He had managed to distract himself with the difficult work, and for some periods of time, he was even able to convince himself that he was just another pirate instead of a lost little boy.
For the first time he realized that Jack had kept him busy on purpose. He had even fulfilled his promise to teach William another language by giving him lessons in Malagasy when they were not on duty or sleeping. He looked over to where Jack was finishing his negotiations for supplies by presenting a carefully written list to the bare-footed harbormaster and summoning over Mr. Gibbs, who looked wary. Though most of the crew had removed their shirts against the heat and worked only in their trousers, Jack�s only concession to the stifling humidity was to remove his overcoat. His white shirt flapped a bit in the hot breeze, but the pirate didn�t seem to notice.
William felt himself grin, and not for the first time he whispered a silent prayer of thanks that he was not completely alone in the world. There was nothing that would have prevented Jack from leaving without William the day Port Royal crumbled around them � or from finding someone else to take care of him once they�d gotten away. William wanted his mother back more than he�d ever wanted anything, and no one could ever replace her in his life, but Jack was quickly taking a seat in William�s affections that he�d reserved for someone else his whole life; someone who�d given up the opportunity to get to know him.
Although he was alone with his thoughts for the first time since his mother�s death, William did not feel like crying. He found that he wanted to enjoy being a boy for a while. Making sure to keep Jack and the Pearl in clear view, William ran towards the jumble of children searching for clams in the shallows of the ocean.
Boys have a talent for recognizing who�s in charge among a group of their peers, and it was with this confidence that William directly approached a tall boy with skin the same golden brown color of Caribbean sand. He was nearly naked except for a brightly patterned piece of material tied around his waist, the length of which he had tucked up to keep out of the water. The other four boys with him were dressed similarly, but with different patterns woven into their own clothing. When the tallest boy noticed William and looked up, the others did the same.
As the five boys stared at him, William searched his brain for the right words to use. His lessons with Jack had only begun a little over two weeks ago, but he�d been looking forward to just such an opportunity to utilize his newfound knowledge. �Azafady, fanampiana daba aho?� � Excuse me, can I help?

The boys looked at one another in surprise that this strange boy had addressed them in their own language. William wasn�t sure he�d said what he wanted to say correctly, but he hoped he�d done it well enough so that they understood him.

The leader of the boys looked William up and down, finally meeting his eyes and grinning. �Ianao mipaoka.�

Grinning back, William took the bucket the boy had asked him to carry and ran with the rest of them a little further down the beach.

For nearly an hour William played with the island boys in a way he never had with other children his own age. They spoke very tentatively, given William�s very basic grasp of the Malagasy language, but communicated even better through a childlike understanding of one another that requires nothing but a similarity in age. By the time they returned nearer to the ship, William had made friends with group of children who could not properly say his name due to the fact that their alphabet did not have the letter �w� in it, and whose names he could not say due to the fact that they were each about thirty letters long.

Still, a smile adorned all of their faces as they ran towards the beached Pearl� that is, until they saw the crowd of people near the dock. William froze, and the boys with him did the same, though for different reasons.

The harbormaster Jack had been dealing with earlier had been dressed in a more European style of clothing. He wore cotton trousers and a white shirt that buttoned up the front. The ten men who had appeared since then, dressed more similarly to the boys William had been playing with. The same brightly patterned cloths were wrapped around each man�s waist, only draping down to the ankles as intended. They were bare-chested and bare-headed, but more disturbing was the fact that each one carried a spear.

At the moment the spears were pointed into the air, but their was a heavy feeling of tension between the islanders and the crew of the Pearl, all of whom had crowded behind their Captain. Jack was standing in the middle between the two groups, speaking with one of the native men. William had never seen the expression of extreme guardedness on the pirate�s face before, and that made him more nervous than anything else. Handing the bucket of shellfish back to the tallest boy, William quietly walked closer to the men to hear what they were saying.

They were speaking Malagasy, but the flow of their speech was so quick and so natural that William had to struggle to follow along. He made out the word �reny�, which meant �mother�, and another word, �zenaka�, which meant �son�. William gathered that the men had recognized Jack from his boyhood, and yet why were they all poised as if ready for battle?

Despite the energy crackling all around him, Jack had affected a manner of guarded friendship, as if he didn�t want the islanders to know he was nervous. William heard the casual tenor of his voice, and he wondered if the other men were convinced by it. He would have been, if he hadn�t known Jack as well as he did.

Just then, the man with whom Jack had been talking said something that made Jack�s face darken considerably. �Mami wata tempoly.�

Jack�s body went horribly still, but he shook his head slowly. �Tsy� I don�t think so, Mate.�
The other man frowned at Jack and said something in rapid-fire Malagasy, but when Jack continued to shake his head, even as he answered in a somewhat polite voice, the islander motioned to the men behind him, who sprung forward and surrounded the crew of the Black Pearl, making sure to grab Jack by the arms.
�No!� William shouted. He ran forward and began hitting one of the two men holding onto Jack. �Tsy! Mihemotra!� The man he was hitting looked at William and laughed, swiping with one enormous hand which knocked him onto the ground.
Jack swore something, yanking his arm away and before anyone could react, he�d pulled his pistol from his belt and aimed it at the man�s head. In an instant, a swarm of spears were at his neck. Everyone went still.
The leader of the group casually reached down and helped William to his feet, even brushing the sand off of his clothing. Crouching down to be at eye-level with him, the man examined William carefully. To Jack, he finally said, �Anao zanaka?� � your son?
�Tsy!� Jack said, appearing more disturbed than ever. �Tsy zanaka aho � he�s not mine, Mate.�
Of course, he wasn�t � but William felt a horrible, crushing pain at Jack�s words. Staring up at the man he�d come to think of as more of a father than his own had been, he did not recognize the fear in Jack�s eyes for what it was. William only saw himself as a burden on someone whose greatest gift in life was his freedom.
Jack saw the betrayal in William�s eyes and did not misinterpret it. There was no time to explain though. �William,� he said intently, but the boy just turned away from him. �Mate� first chance you get � run. Come back to the ship and hide till we get here, but whatever you do, don�t let them take you to the temple, savvy?�
William didn�t answer, but the power and emotion behind the exchange was witnessed by the leader of the islanders, who grinned broadly as he looked at Jack. �Lianga,� he laughed, and hit Jack hard enough to knock him out.
Before he could react, William was snatched up into the arms of another of the native men and he, Jack, and the crew of the Pearl were carried off into the forest.

Jack dreamed of his mother as he remembered her from his childhood. She sat in a pavilion wearing white robes made entirely of silk, and her long black hair hung down her back in waves that made you beg to touch it, reaching almost to her knees. Her skin was so pale; not white, but soft and silky as almonds. Her beauty was unmatched by any woman Jack had ever met in his entire life, and to recall it now, even in a dream, took his breath away.

An enormous snake, its body colored orange and white, twisted itself around her body with its head coming to rest between her breasts. She absently stroked the smooth flat of its head as the pink forked tongue tasted the air to find to spoor of the strangers around him. Jack�s mother sat upon a platform covered by a sheer canvas that let in only enough light to see by, but never so much as to burn her skin. In his dream, Jack sat in his usual place on her left side, his adult head resting again her knee just as it had as a child.

Of course there were the visitors, men and women come to see him and his mother as they had nearly every day of his youth. Jack was required to do nothing when he sat with her, and he would simply watch the people come and go until some of the boys from the village would arrive, and then he�d go with them to play. No boys had arrived yet, and the grown-up Jack reveled in the long-denied pleasure of his mother�s company, wishing it were real and not only a dream.

It had to be a dream, for even as he stared up as his mother, who was smiling ethereally at those who addressed her, she began to grow younger. Jack watched the few years she�d held in his boyhood retreat from her features, until she looked no older than a child in the last years of her adolescence. There was an innocence about her like this that Jack never could have imagined without seeing it. She was no more or less beautiful than the woman he�d known during his youth, but she shone with a purity of spirit that made her seem almost weightless. As his mother, she held an almost physical power, but as this young lady, she seemed insubstantial; immortal.

He could not have been present with this angelic version of his mother � had not even been born when she�d been that young, but in his dream, Jack knelt and leaned closer to examine her face. It was nearly impassive, not warm and open as he remembered it in all the times he�d sat in this same place with her. A ghostly smile decorated her face like jewelry she�d put on for the occasion, but her eyes were vacant - hardly aware of her surroundings.

Confused, Jack looked around, making sure of where they were. Yes � the trees, the clothing, even the smell of the incense was exactly the same. This was Toamasina, without a doubt. Even the people were familiar, though far younger than they were as he�d known them in his youth. The forgotten familiarity of the place comforted Jack in a way he�d only felt a few times in his life since leaving Madagascar.

His mother gasped softly, and surprised, Jack turned to her. Her face had gone even paler than normal and her astonishingly blue eyes were wide, focused on someone in the crowd. She looked dazed, as though she�d just woken from a dream, and even as he watched, Jack�s mother put a hand against her breast and took a deep breath.

Jack followed his mother�s gaze out into the crowd, wondering which of the faces there had caused such an unusual change in her. It was a familiar face � one that had just reached the front of the group. The man held a wooden boxed in both hands and he was clutching it so tightly, it might have shattered in his grip. The man wore a similar expression of awe and surprise on his weathered face as if he had been confronted with an angel.

Even Jack was surprised - the man was his father.

William could not find it in him to resist the man who was carrying him, although he kept glancing towards Jack to make sure he was still breathing. As hurt as he was by the pirate�s words, he couldn�t help caring � Jack was all he had, and his only chance to find his mother again.

When the leader of the islanders shouted orders that separated Jack and William from the crew, William did begin to struggle, but the man carrying him gave him a powerful shake that took away his breath.

The boys William had played with earlier were following alongside the group, focused specifically on him. Every once in a while he heard them say the word �Andriamanitras,� but William did not know what that meant and he no longer cared. With Jack unconscious, how would they escape?

Separated from the men, William and Jack were carried to a hut made out of wood with a thatched, pointed roof. A man with a painted face and long robes sat within, smoking something with a strong scent that made William sneeze. He listened as the leader and the robed man spoke, but their voices were fast and quiet, and he could understand nothing.

Both William and Jack were placed faced down on the floor with a cushion beneath their heads, which made William curious. He turned his head towards Jack just in time to see the robed man tear his shirt open down the back to examine the tattoos William knew to be there.

The robed man�s eyes opened wide, and he spoke in an excited voice, pointing at the center circle which Jack had told William was his first tattoo, received in a ceremony here on this island. The man leaned closer over Jack�s back and frowned in disapproval as he pulled aside the tattered shirt fragments, revealing the multitude of other tattoos surrounding the first one. He almost seemed angry when he read them, and he stood to yell at the leader, gesturing wilding.

The leader was unfazed by the robed man�s anger, and in a lazy manner, waved in William�s direction. The robed man grew silent and came to stare down at William. With a deft motion that gave William no time to anticipate, the robed man tore open the back of his shirt as well. After a few moments searching, he heard the robed man say, �Zanaka?�

It was a word William knew well by now, and he suddenly felt uneasy. What had Jack told him to do? Run?

The two islanders spoke quickly again, and both seemed very satisfied about something. The leader stuck his head outside the door of the hut and four men entered, picking up Jack and carrying him from the room. The leader followed after a few final words to the robed man, and then they were alone.

William tried to speak to him but only got one response from the robed man when he asked who he was � �Ombiasy,� a shaman. The man answered no more of his questions, but moved swiftly around the room gathering instruments that made William shiver. Several long objects that looked like needles, some cloth, a jar of an oily looking substance, and finally, several vials of a thick, dark liquid. William leapt to his feet so quickly the ombiasy dropped one of the vials, and sprinted towards the open entryway of the hut.

It was no use. Within seconds, two large men standing sentry out in front had him by the arms and escorted him back inside. He was forced to lie on his stomach again but the men did not leave when he did. At the ombiasy�s direction they held William pinned to the floor as the shaman knelt beside him with the gathered objects spread out on the floor.

Pain sprung up William�s spine and he screamed, but only for a moment. He passed out onto the pillow as the ombiasy continued his work.

Jack woke up breathless from his dream, wondering at its message. It occurred to him that he didn�t know how Captain Teague had met his mother � he had never cared to find out. It was something he�d have to ask once they arrived at Shipwreck Cove.

His head hurt, and as Jack reached up to rub his scalp he remembered where he was, and why. Anger welled up within him. Not even Fenoarivo Atsinanana was a safe place for him anymore. His past had followed him out of Toamasina, and probably over the whole island. He was back on his mother�s platform, and the leader of the islanders � the chief of Jack�s people, was sitting on the steps of the dais just below the chair in which Jack had been placed. It was his mother�s chair � but she�d been dead for over ten years now. Jack was glad he�d remembered to remove her head from his belt before leaving the ship.

Jack leveled his eyes of the chief and sighed. �I�m not staying,� he said in Malagasy.

�If you will not, your son will,� the chief smiled, teeth blackened from the nuts it was their custom to chew to prevent dehydration. �It is no matter. We have made our decision already. Who has defiled your skin, Mpanjaka?�

Jack felt cold. �It was Calypso,� he said. Then using a name they�d recognize, �Tia Dalma.�

�Tsy!� Furiously, the chief stood, looming over Jack. �No! The goddess would not do such a thing to her people!

��fraid so, Mate,� Jack said. �Seems she wanted me for herself. Didn�t get it anyway,� he added. �Bad luck all �round.�

The chief continued to stare, but Jack said nothing more. With a shout of anger, the chief rushed at Jack, who lifted his feet just as the man was practically on top of him. The heels of his boots connected solidly with the chief�s groin and the man collapsed in pain.

Taking the opportune moment, Jack leaped from the chair and off of the platform, racing through the growing darkness. He knew where the crew would be kept, but he could get them later. If what the chief had insinuated was correct, he knew exactly where William would be, and it was imperative he reach the boy first.

From not too far away, a single scream from William rent the night, and then all fell silent. Jack ran.

A/N: Any error's regarding the Malagasy language or people are my own - it's a facinating place and culture and I enjoyed learning about it to write this chapter. Thanks!
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Savarna