As man hath caused a blemish...

Day Three

There was a knocking sound…it seemed to echo around the room. I lifted my head off the pillow of my captains chest to glare blearily at the door,

“Captain?” Rawlings voice was muffled by the wood. Beneath me Davy growled, eyes screwing tighter shut and reaching out for me blindly, pulling me close against him again,

“Whatever it is ask Collins” He called out loud, deafening me slightly (exaggeration again, are you getting used to it now?) but making up for it by drawing slow circles on the small of my back…if I could purr, I would have,

“With respect sir, I really, really think you should come out here” There was the sound of a scuffle followed by Rawlings’ pleading tone, “Now, sir, no offence!” He babbled through the wood. I nudged Davy with my elbow as he growled,

“That’s what you get for being Captain” I grinned smugly, rolling over into the warm spot he left. He snatched a pillow from under my head and bopped me with it – can you believe that? Davy Jones, scourge of the seven seas, commander of the Flying Dutchman, had just hit me with a pillow…am I the only one to find that hilarious?

“If I have to get up so do you, Miss Spyce” He said imperiously, ignoring the fact that I’d now curled up into a ball of giggles. I was still laughing – yanking on my shirt – as he opened the door and strode out on deck, allowing Rawlings to slip past into the room,

“Where’s Wiggs?” I asked out of habit, searching for my other boot,

“Busy with our guest” He said. I looked up at him properly for the first time, noticing that he was slightly paler than usual, his eyes wide,

“Guest? What guest?” I asked feeling fear creep up behind me like the bogeyman it was,

“Guess” He replied. I stamped on my other boot, tucked my knife back into my pocket and shot out on deck. Sure enough, amongst a circle of crewmen Tia Dalma was talking with the Captian,

“She’s here early!” I whispered, irritation clipping my voice and I’d be damned if I cared, “That’s not fair!” A rough hand closed over my upper arm, yanking me back as I started forward,

“You can’t tell a Goddess to go away and come back tomorrow!” Rawlings spluttered. I pulled my arm from his grip, his words not really registering – Goddess?

“Watch me. Calypso!” I called across the deck, pushing my way through the crew. She turned to face me with infinite grace, Jones at her side already, “you’re a day early! We were expecting you tomorrow” I said, letting my fear drive my mouth…false bravado’s a wonderful thing,

“This is de third day, Spyce” She smiled, hissing my name, “time for your choice”

“No” I said stubbornly, “come back tomorrow” I could see Jones trying not to laugh behind her, his eyes twinkling,

“Ya make ya choice here an’ now, child” She said firmly with an imperious gesture, “ya leavin’ or ya stayin’?” She asked, ragged skirts swirling around her as she walked towards me, “I’m suggestin’, from one woman to de other, that ya leave..ya don’ know whit dis man is capable of” She said, jerking her chin towards the Captain,

“I’m not going anywhere” I snapped, eyes narrowing in defiance. I didn’t care who she was, I hate being ordered around…er…the Captain notwithstanding of course. Tia Dalma reached out, taking my arm, fingers digging in to the skin, my fist curled and drew back just as a crab claw closed over her wrist. We both looked up at Davy Jones. Calypso let go of my wrist and I wondered briefly if he was hurting her,

“You will not touch a member of my crew” He said threateningly, standing taller, broadening out his shoulders – now is not the time to get gooey knees Spyce! – as he let her go, “That was never part of our agreement”

“Contracts change Davy Jones, after all ya never said anyt’ing about bringin’ a girl on board” She snapped back, standing side on to him, her expression almost contemptuous, “by de rights of that contract, I could let her drown” She smiled at me, sickly sweet,

“She’s still serving, she’s still a soul” He counteracted, “why should her gender make her any different?” Tia Dalma took a step forward, towards him, fisting a hand in his jacket and pulling his face closer to her own. For a brief, angry moment I thought she was going to kiss him. In which case honour be damned, I’d punch the bitch – yes! Alright I’m jealous already ok?! Can you blame me? The crew, as one, leant forward, all ears and…whatever passed for ears amongst ocean creatures, straining to catch what they were saying as a brief, whispered conversation was held. The woman shoved him away roughly with an exasperated yell, following as he staggered – I’d never seen Jones unbalanced, it was a little un-nerving – and poking his chest with a sharp finger,

“Either ya throw her off ya ship or I’ll do it for ya” She threatened. Jones stared at her stonily and Tia Dalma almost smiled, the lights shining in her eyes again…why? Was she getting some sick pleasure out of this or what? “Alright, so be it”

“Caly-“ The Captain didn’t get to finish his sentence as the woman turned away, evaporating like the misty haze over a desert. Jones looked upwards and on instinct everyone else followed the gesture. Dark clouds boiled overhead, appearing from nowhere. A ominous rumble of thunder rattled through the sky as the clouds grew thicker and the sea moved harder. The wind was getting up, someone was swearing…someone was praying,

“Orders, Cap’n?” Scholey called forward as Jones stumped across the deck,

“Brace the for’yard! Hard to port! I want spare hands on the windward rails! Pile on canvas! I’ll have speed from this ship or there’ll be the devil to pay!” The Captain roared, shoving the helmsman out of the way and taking the spinning wheel himself. One hand, his crab claw, despite the howling wind and the beating of the water. Lightening cracked around us, striking deep holes in the water but…never once hitting the ship…did Tia Dalma mean this? Or was it just another one of her weird tests?

“What the bloody hell does that mean?” I yelled over the noise, earning a mouthful of salt and rainwater,

“It means get yer pretty arse into the riggin on the starboard side else the Captain’ll have you flayed!” Someone else yelled back, shoving me towards the drenched ropes that lined either side of the ship,

“Miss Spyce, to me!” The Captain boomed – lifesaver, bloody wonderful man…have I mentioned I’m petrified of heights yet? Slipping, gasping, sliding and half swimming at times I scrabbled across the deck to his side,

“Orders sir-” I didn’t have time to say anything else as I was grabbed and shoved into the small space between him and the helm, his other hand coming to rest on the helm, effectively caging me in…it looked as if I wasn’t going anywhere,

“Lifelines fore and aft! Double grape that launch!” It was at that moment that I realised Jones could still love. He loved this ship. He knew its lines and its capabilities and he was fighting for it,

“Sir! The Dutchman can’t take this!” Collins, the first mate, yelled, spitting out salt water, “we have to take her down or risk the mainmast!”

“The waters are too shallow, Mr Collins, we’ll run aground beneath water and be a target for the waves overhead” Jones roared back, buffeting me to one side as he spun the wheel, I watched the spokes burr before my eyes and knew that reaching out to help would be a really, really bad idea, “the Dutchman has come through worse! She’ll hold longer!”

“But for how long that’s the question-“

“Belay that! Get to your posts and get us out of this!” Jones stepped forward, having to wrestle with the wheel now, the strain in his arms unbelievable. I reached out, bracing my hands on the spokes beneath his and gasping at the amount of power there. He didn’t protest to my amazement but used the tentacles of his beard to pull me back tighter against him,

“SIR!” Collins yelped as a particularly huge wave crashed over us. I was drenched from head to toe, forced to let go of the helm for a moment to regain my balance. Behind me the Captain just looked amused,

“Rawlings!” Jones yelled, seeming to ignore the first mate, bracing his feet more firmly against the boards. It seemed as if nothing could knock him over, he was as solid as the ship. Rawlings appeared beside him and I was shoved into him, “take Miss Spyce below deck, make sure she’s stowed and safe! If she gets swept overboard I’ll have your skin! Collins! Down then!” The roar went up amongst the crew as Rawlings and I fought our way across the deck. It was as we reached one of the hatches, having to pause to uncover it, that a sound like a dieing whale ripped through the ship. I didn’t hear it so much as feel it through my feet, the low bass vibrating through the boards. I turned in time to see the mizzen mast crashing towards the deck and splintering into a million pieces before Rawlings shoved me down, using his body as a shield,

“We can’t die!” I roared over the noise, trying to shove him off as the water closed over our heads,

“No! But that doesn’t mean it won’t bloody hurt!” He laughed a little, straightening out. I looked up first, the crashing waves now roiled overhead as a white foam. The mast hadn’t been able to take the strain of the wind and the effort it took to go down. Thankfully the main and for masts were still standing. I smiled and glanced over to the Captain…who was looking back at me with a slightly shocked expression before his gaze dropped down to his own chest and the four foot thick, five inch wide spar of wood that had burst through the front of his rib cage