Apprentice To The Sorcerer

“The boy is a sorcerer,” Landry said.

I flattened to the bulkhead, hearing my name. Eavesdropping had undeniable payoffs on a ship.

“He’s like Jack,” Gibbs agreed. “Somethin’ in the blood. Got a good heart. I believe he’d throw himself in front of a bullet for the captain.”

“He comes on board and starts readin’ books,” Ragetti piped in. “Before you know it, he’s doin’ with the best surgeon.”

“That’s brains, not magic,” Pintel argued. “Boy’s just got a lot going on upstairs.”

“What about them pipes?” Ragetti defended. “You think they’d work for you?”

“My brother is god-touched, like de captain,” Mokulu said suddenly. “And I not like you talking about him when he not here to put in his say.”

“Anyone one ever see him shave?” Gihr asked.

“My grandmother was an Indian,” I announced, stalking inside. “Indians don’t grow hair on their faces or their bodies.” I looked around at everyone. “You all want to know things, ask me. I’m not ashamed or shy.”

They had the grace to look sheepish.

“I got something to ask,” Ragetti said. “Will you teach me to read?”

For a minute everyone looked at him. Suddenly Lloyd and Pintel chimed in, seconding his request. “I wants to know important things, read the news,” Pintel said.

“No’ting has been the same here since you came,” Gihr said abruptly, unaccepting of the sudden change in the wind. “We were all content. Now you have us washing our hands, and boiling our water. You want to educate us all but you are just a blasphemer.” He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, coming toward me at a stalk. “You cut into the body, a sacred place. I saw you cutting on the hanged men of the Madeline.”

I hadn’t thought anyone had seen that. It had been quick, just an experiment to gain familiarity with the body. Gihr’s culture apparently didn’t agree with that any more than English culture wanted to. “A surgeon must have practice,” I said, holding my hands up to show I didn’t want to fight. “What’s the difference in cutting on a dead man and cutting on a live one?”

Gihr swung at me. I danced back a little too late and caught a glancing blow on the jaw. The force of it snapped my head back. As I fell I saw him jump on top of me. The wind escaped me as he slammed me three times in the gut. I worked an arm loose and hit him in the mouth, knocking out a tooth.

We rolled around on the floor, punching and kicking. I took another bad blow to my ribs and heard one crack. Enraged, I came up from the floor seeing red. I hadn’t done anything to deserve this, and I wasn’t letting him get away with using me for a punching bag.

I drew back. My anger gave my next punch enough force to knock Gihr out cold. He skidded on his back, hitting his head on the bulkhead and not waking. I found I didn’t care if he was dead. I didn’t have the time or the motivation to convert this bigot and he only made trouble for me.

No one tried to talk to me as I went for bandages. My knuckles had burst on Gihr’s face that last time. All was silence as I cleaned and wrapped my hand. My ribs needed wrapped, but I could hardly allow anyone-. Mokulu could do it. It would be good practice and he already knew I was a woman. The problem was getting privacy. Even if I could find an excuse to be alone with Mokulu in Jack’s cabin, Miss Bishop currently occupied it. Possibly, we could go down into the hold…

“I’m going down for rum” I announced to no one and yet everyone. “Who wants their ration?”

“I do,” Pintel said.

“So do I,” added Ragetti.

“And me,” Lloyd said. “Just bring up a crate lad, and we’ll hand out as it’s asked for. No sense in taking account like that. Be sure you tell Gibbs what we took.”

“I go wit’ you,” Mokulu said. “You too skinny to carry crate.”

“After seeing what the lad did to Gihr,” Lloyd tittered, “I ain’t so sure he can’t carry his own weight.”

“Be dat as it may be,” Mokulu replied, “I want my own rum, not dis plantation-run swill you all drink.”

“You’re spoiled on the navy’s drink,” Gibbs complained. “But aye, that be the best rum.”

Mokulu and I went to the storage and looked at each other. Mokulu chuckled. “You hit him so hard you make him sleep,” he said. “Any man be proud of dat hit.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning weakly. “He’s only going to be trouble though. This won’t be enough.”

“He already sign up for more dan he know,” Mokulu said. “I hear rib crack. You show me.”

He bound me up as tight as I could stand. What with the bandages already on my breasts I now had an entire torso of linen.

“How long it take to heal?”

“I don’t know, several weeks I imagine,” I answered.

“You must be careful.”

“I’ll try,” I said. “But what chance do I have of succeeding?”

“With dat woman on board, I do not know,” Mokulu replied. “You valuable, Hodari, too valuable to lose to Persian mbaya and colonial bozibozi.” He hefted a crate and grabbed from his own stash. He could afford to keep his rum with ours. No one would ever steal from him again, not after seeing how Jack would let him punish the guilty.

*************************************************************************************

I became quite intimate with pain over the next two days. Every movement I made stretched my skin and put rolling pressure on my ribs. Toward the end of my shift on the second day of this agony, Jack called me over to him. We walked to his cabin, whereupon he ejected Miss Bishop with the advice to get some air. She snatched up her parasol and sped out.

“Lei,” Jack said. “Yer pale underneath your tan. You’re waxy and yer sweating twice as much as you should be. If y’ were any slower on the rigging you’d be a koala bear.”

I didn’t know what a koala bear was, but it didn’t sound flattering.

“What be wrong with you, lad?” Jack asked. “Here, sit before you fall.” He pushed a chair at me with his foot. I eased down into it gratefully.

I considered lying to him. No good would ever come of ratting, no matter how much I wished otherwise. But Jack would find out if he asked Mokulu, and if he didn’t get what he wanted from me he would do just that. “I got into a fight,” I mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Did you start it? You know what I have to do if you did,” he said, his voice clearly troubled. “Where’re you hurt?”

“It’s just a rib,” I said quickly. “No, I didn’t start it.” I looked up at him, allowing my heat on the matter to show in my eyes. “But I sure as hell finished it,” I swore.

Jack’s lips twitched. “You did, did you?” He opened a little box on his table, bringing out the familiar smoking accoutrements from Madagascar. He glanced at me as he packed the pipe. “You are off duty today, tomorrow and the next day. Have Mokulu make a pallet under your hammock to lie in; you should be flat on yer back and not bowed up in a hammock. If you had tol’ me this when it happened you would already be healing up a little. You know this, you are studying medicine.”

I looked back down at the floor. “Yes, captain,” I said. “Could I keep the cat with me at night so I don’t get eaten by rats?” We rarely slept on the floor. To do so meant getting chewed on. Only Gibbs made a habit of doing it, and only because it helped his back a great deal.

Jack chuckled. “Miss Coscoroba will be happy to sleep with you.”

“You named your cat Coscoroba?” I winced. “Big name for a kitty. What’s it mean?”

“You’re the scholar,” Jack teased, handing me the pipe and a lamp. “You figure it out.”

Jack went to lounging on his bed while I smoked. The effects of the opium hit me better this time. I fell under the narcotic gratefully, feeling my pain ebb away and my head cloud with pleasure. Jack’s cabin seemed so warm and comfortable, so quiet and remote. Even the sounds of people above us on the poop deck were softer than usual.

“So, do you still want to be a pirate?” Jack asked.

“Yes.” I emptied his pipe and absently packed it with tobacco. “I like it. I feel free.”

“You know you could get hung.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I puffed at the vanilla and molasses tobacco, enjoying the slight burn on my tongue. “Why is Gibbs the only man who calls you Jack?” If he could venture toward more intimate conversation, so could I.

“He’s known me longest, he has that right,” Jack answered. “You know Lei, this is the longest sail I’ve had at a stretch in nearly two years and I think I’ve slept in me own bed half a dozen times. Me sheets smell like rotting violets.”

“Make her bathe,” I said, grimacing. “I’d suggest throwing her out with the depth line but I suspect she’s sensitive to sea water. She got splashed on deck and developed a rash there.”

Jack chuckled. “She would be the sort,” he agreed. “I admit I feel a bit bad for leading her on now. She seems altogether a bit too unhinged to toy with.”

“You know you’re handsome,” I said softly. “That really gives you power over women like her.”

“Yes, yet you managed to wrest an apology from her and send her packing in just a moment or two of nearly inaudible words,” Jack observed. “Do you remember what you said to her?”

“I do, but I’d rather not burn my captain’s ears with it,” I answered.

“Oh, give us a hint,” Jack coaxed, grinning broadly.

“You wouldn’t use my words,” I said, thinking it to be the truth. I couldn’t imagine Jack talking to a woman the way I had to Arabella Bishop. He wasn’t serious enough. Aside from that, he wasn’t mean enough, not to females. I felt ever so free to talk to Miss Bishop how I pleased, but I shared her sex. It didn’t matter she didn’t know that.

“I wouldn’t?” Jack sat up. “Now you really have me curious.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what Hodari means,” I offered.

“Hodari?” Jack looked up at the bulkhead beams. “Complementary word. More like a group of meanings for it. Can mean clever, strong or brave.”

“And how did you just know that?” I sat agape. I hadn’t thought I’d have to deliver my end of the bargain.

“I’ve freed a lot of slaves,” Jack answered solemnly. “Now, I’ve delivered my end; you deliver yours.”

“I told her what pirates normally do to female captives,” I answered.

“So you’re an expert on pirates, are you?” Jack put his back to the window, propping up so that he could rest his head between his hands and the window. “What would have happened if you and I hadn’t made it back to the Pearl in time?”

“Gibbs would have had leave to sail without us,” I answered. “You can’t tell me all pirates are as mindful of women as you are, captain,” I said, slurring a little. “You wouldn’t mistreat a woman, but others would and will. I just reminded Miss Bishop of that.”

Jack’s eyes glittered.

“Seems a bit harsh,” he said finally.

“Life is harsh.” I finished my smoke and leaned back carefully, wincing. My rib throbbed. “This meat we carry ourselves around in is weak.”

“My meat is not weak,” Jack said. “None of it.”

I blushed. “Thank you for telling me, captain,” I muttered. “While we are negotiating on answers to questions, I have another question. What is this brotherhood you mentioned in Madagascar? Why was it so important I feign ignorance over it?”

“Tell me of your relationship with Mokulu and I’ll answer,” Jack parried.

“He took me for his brother,” I answered. I didn’t see the need to hide this. “We are very good friends and we are learning medicine together.” As I spoke I rolled up my sleeve to show Jack my brand.

Jack jerked to attention when the sigil came into view. His eyes widened. Very slowly, he rose from his bed and came to stand before me. Taking my arm in his hand, he ran his dirty fingers over the blackened, raised flesh. “I didn’t know Mokulu was an asp,” he murmured. “And now, you are too.”

His touch brought up every delicate hair on my body. I wanted to pull away from him but felt frozen in place. Jack lowered my arm, looking into my eyes as he did so. “As far as I know, you are the only white to receive this honor. The Brotherhood of the Asp seeks to claim status for all dark peoples. For you to have this symbol means you have done the Brotherhood service enough to be considered a member, membership sought or not. It identifies you. No man who knows the Brotherhood would lay a hand on you, and your fellows will attempt to help you if you ask it of them.”

“So what’s the catch?” I asked, making a weak attempt at a joke. Jack sounded serious, deadly serious.

“The catch?” Jack smiled before throwing himself into the seat opposite me. “White men know the sign too. They may not know the exact meaning, but they will know you have close ties with a dark race.”

“So, nothing,” I surmised. “I am neither better nor worse off than I was before.”

“I’d say you’re more than slightly better, given that you’re a pirate on my ship,” Jack corrected. “We have a total of twenty one freed slaves on board that will defer to you. Should you ever attempt a mutiny you’ll likely succeed, for they fight like three men each.”

“I would never mutiny against you,” I said, insulted he’d suggest it.

“Not now you wouldn’t,” Jack answered strangely, looking away for a moment. “Lei, never fail to give enough thought as to your resources. Make contacts everywhere you go. Never miss a chance to make a friendship, especially a working relationship. Very often a man is caught not because he lacked skill or bravery, but because he lacked contacts.”

Jack got up and began to pace. “I know you’re good and well smoked to the gills right now, but try to follow what I say.”

I felt glad he wasn’t asking me to follow where he went. Jack was in full bolt-mode now, but confined to his quarters. The result was rather like a series of contained ricochets. He had such energy, such vitality.

“You can go about making contacts several ways.” Jack ran his finger over the spine of Barbossa’s log, his expression dark. “Friendly contacts are those in which you know you can sling your hammock in their home. They are the ones who will feed you, loan you clothes, find weapons for you, and even transport you. You make these contacts strong over years of mutual assistance.” Jack strode to the window and looked out, his hands firmly behind his back. “If you come to them for aid and you receive it, you send them compensation somehow. You can gain the support of entire families this way.”

A rolling sound interrupted us. Jack froze. Suddenly, he unfurled and ran for the hatch. A knock came just as he reached it. Jack took a breath through his nose and put a hand on his cutlass before answering. Ragetti stuck his head in. “Sorry, sorry captain, it was Miss Bishop. She fell against the monkey box.”

“How many?” Jack sighed, looking relieved.

“Whole stack of shot,” Ragetti admitted. “We made her sit down away from anythin’ important.”

“Good enough.” Jack shut the hatch in his face and turned to look at me. “You ever captain a vessel, Lei, never ignore a cannonball rolling across the deck.”

“Why?”

“The sound of mutiny,” he said. “And it isn’t as if I fear it from these lads, but still, never fail to investigate.” He went back to the window. “Where was I?”

“You’d just talked to me about friendly contacts and I believe you were about to go on to others,” I said, struggling to focus.

“Ah yes, that brings us to unfriendly contacts.” Jack tapped his hands together. “These are contacts that you use with no thought to them other than future use. These are people you do hard business with, the ones that do business with many people. Greed is a powerful motivator. If you find a successful businessman you also find a man who might be willing to help you for a fee.”

He faced me. “Word of advice,” he breathed. “Don’t allow your unfriendly contacts into contact with your friendly contacts without you acting as their contact, savvy?”

“Third party intervention,” I drawled, not missing a beat on his terrible vernacular. Maybe all one had to do to understand Jack Sparrow was to be intoxicated. “I gotcha.”

“Good. You don’t want to lose your bread and butter to the fire,” Jack said.

“Are there any more kinds of contacts?” I felt really loopy now. Maybe it had to do with me pouring myself a glass of baijiu without noticing it. Since it showed half empty I must have been drinking it.

“Yes, there’s one more.” Jack seemed to force himself to sit down. “The pressed contacts. The people you blackmail, the ones you have something over. These are the contacts that you use with great care given to timing. You hold onto their debt to you like a rum bottle and you don’t give anyone else a drink, get me?”

“Can you give me a scenario?” I belched through my nose. “If it isn’t too much trouble?”

“I’ll do better. I’ll tell you a story.” Jack sat at his table with a pad of thick, linen weave paper. Taking a thick piece of charcoal from a bowl, he began to draw very slowly. “My blacksmith friend, the one who is forever trying to ventilate me, is a friendly contact. He may not seem all that friendly right now, but he’ll get over his snit someday. I have faith in the lad.”

“How is this a story?” I asked.

“Be patient, boy,” Jack soothed. “I had just finished a little stint near Oman on the Hapsburgh, a stolen ship I stole from a thief in Mozambique. Ship struck a reef. Long story short I ended up on a longboat. Used the longboat to get to Madagascar. From there I took a freight to Morocco.

My intention was to take a short trip to Spain and then make port in Boston. I ended up in a longboat again, with it springing a leak just outside of Barbados. I made port though, in lovely, squalid Port Royal. Thought I could commandeer a vessel and get back to sea.” Jack continued to draw as he spoke, his long fingers twitching over the paper much quicker now.

“As I harassed two prides of the queen’s navy, I saw a woman fall into the harbor. This was Miss Elizabeth Swann. I didn’t know who she was of course, I just knew a woman had fallen into the water and hadn’t come back to the surface.”

I listened, enrapt at hearing a tale I knew only from my side of events. My glass looked empty now, but I didn’t care.

“I realize now upon reflection it’s a miracle she didn’t die.” Jack shook his head. “Someone had laced her into her corset so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She fainted and fell off the parapet. So, she’d been without air even before she hit water.

I dove in and retrieved her from the bottom. When we came to the surface she didn’t draw breath. I had to drag her back down into the water again in order to get her heavy dress off. I couldn’t swim with her skirts tangling ‘round my legs. Once I got her on the dock I cut through her corset and she started breathing again.”

“She was thankful,” I murmured.

“Oh yes, she was. Unlike most people, her first reaction to seeing a pirate leaning over her was not to scream and flail about. She knew I’d saved her even though she hadn’t been awake for it.” Jack began to press harder on his paper, his lines getting thicker. I could see a form taking shape.

“But the gallant James Norrington and his entourage of grunts seized control of the situation. Norrington saw my brand. Though it wasn’t lawful, he ordered me arrested.” Jack chuckled softly. “And fair Elizabeth, the only thing of real value in Port Royal besides her cursed Aztec necklace, jumped to my defense. There, I made a friendly contact. Unfortunately I couldn’t take the time to nurture that friendliness; I had to pay her back with treachery. I looped my manacle chain around her and used her as a hostage just long enough to get away. I wouldn’t have hurt her, as you point out I am soft on women, but no one else knew that, including Miss Swann. Rightfully, she felt wroth over my actions.”

Jack’s picture began to resemble a woman lying on her back.

“Despite a magnificent escape quite worthy of my name, I got captured anyway. William Turner worked in the blacksmith shop I stopped in to rid myself of the irons. We had a good fight. The lad is an excellent swordsman. I kept trying to make a peaceful escape but he had this moral standing about pirates and he just couldn’t allow me to evade the authorities, don’t you know? I had a pistol pointed right at him and he still insisted on delaying me. While I debated on how to handle him, his master woke up from his drunken sprawl and smashed me over the head with something.”

Jack shaded in a bit more on the woman’s dress with his pinkie, smearing the black to a faded grey where the fabric would have folded.

“But young William broke me out of gaol as quick as you please when he realized his fiancé had been abducted by a pirate named Barbossa. He knew I would be able to find her. We stole the Commodore’s new pride and joy and had a right old adventure with cursed pirates, cursed gold, and Hector Barbossa. At the finish I had the Black Pearl again, for she was my ship to begin with. Will had his bonny Elizabeth and Hector Barbossa had his final rest. At least I thought he had.

Now, fair Lizzie-Beth has flown the island without her hero, and her hero languishes,” Jack went on. “Truth be know, Lizzie is twice the hero that boy is, but no one would give her the credit for it. Women are overlooked mentally, and I promise you, boy, women are not to be underestimated. Warning you won’t help a bit, I know. As much as you think you’re prepared to be hard and unyielding, there’s going to be a woman so soft and supple against your body that she’ll make you forget your resolve.”

The picture was me. I lay flat on my back on the dock, drenched, nipples showing through the thin cloth of my underdress. My eyes stared up, huge and dark, fixating on the viewer. “The first real look I had of her,” Jack said, putting the charcoal down to carelessly wipe his hands on his breeches. “How could I blame the boy for being so beside himself? See, Lei, William is still a friendly contact, he just doesn’t know it. Sweet Lizzie is a friendly contact even though I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“I understand,” I said, humbled by how well Jack had drawn me. “Could I ask you a personal question?”

“One,” he said, looking as if he might smile.

“Did you mean what you told the blacksmith about keeping her if she came back on the Pearl?”

“Absolutely,” Jack murmured, not batting an eye. “If Elizabeth Swann ever puts her pretty little foot on my deck, she’s my property, savvy? William can bugger himself. I’ll not give up a prize like her.” He held up his hand. “And that’s all you need to know about your captain’s love life, or the lack thereof.” He stood. “Now, young Lei, you’ll have to get back on deck even if you aren’t on duty. There still lies the little matter of Mr. Gihr and his punishment. Do you want to administer it yourself?”

“No,” I said immediately.

“Then just watch.” Jack donned his hat.

I slipped out and found Miss Bishop. “We’re about to punish a crewman,” I said, bending over to whisper it in her ear. “If you don’t want to see it, best to go back inside.”

Miss Bishop’s spine stiffened. She bolted out of her chair and faced me. “You,” she said lowly. “What do you want with me now? Haven’t you frightened me enough?”

“I believe I might have,” I admitted. “You at least have the sense to be cautious now, which you should have been all along.” I nodded toward Jack’s cabin. “I meant what I said. You don’t want to see violence then you should go.”

“I- thank you,” she said briskly. “I’ll do that.” She swept by me and entered the cabin, passing Jack in the process. Giving him the widest berth, she slammed the door behind him.

“Mr. Gihr,” Jack said, addressing the crew. “Step up.”

It was at that instant that I realized I hadn’t even told Jack who I’d fought with. But he knew. He knew. He always knew what went on. The Pearl held no secrets from him.

Gihr came forward, a rebellious thrust showing on his jaw and a hard gleam in his eyes. Jack looked at me. “Mr. Trapezia,” he said. “Approach.”

When we stood together in a group, Jack reached into his coat and drew out the cat o’nine. “When members of my crew fight each other, they must have good reason. I expect you both to give it, now.”

“I defended myself,” I said clearly. “I did not start it.”

Jack looked around at the rest of his crew. “Lads?” he questioned.

“I was there, it’s true,” Lloyd said. “Gihr hit him first.”

His sentiment was backed by others who had seen the altercation. Jack nodded. “And your version of things, Mr. Gihr? They must be good; you seem confident I’m not going to punish you for breaking a rule you’ve already broken once.”

“I don’t trust him,” Gihr said. “He comes on board, starts healing the sick, makes wind come at his call, it’s unnatural!”

“So bigotry is your excuse?” Jack asked, deadpan. “Surely there’s something else?”

“He’s so wet behind the ears he hasn’t even got hair on his face!” Gihr protested.

“His bibi is Indian, fool,” Mokulu growled. “And he do twice de work you do.”

“Aye, generally so,” Gibbs murmured. “In the rigging like a monkey, he is.”

“And our doctor,” someone in the back shouted.

“And our good luck!” Langley claimed. “Without Lei that ill omen in the captain’s cabin would have us sunk!”

“I’ve been here eight months,” Gihr said. “He should listen to me.”

Jack walked away from us. He stood out at the rail, gazing out at the faraway land. We waited, wondering, hoping for a conclusion to our dilemma. I didn’t want to deal with future problems from Gihr.

“We reach Cape Blanc in less than nine hours,” Jack said softly. He turned, came back to us. Staring down at Gihr, he held the cat o’ nine under his nose. “Ye have a choice, Mr. Gihr. Ye can take ten lashes administered by myself, give an apology to Mr. Trapezia, and continue to sail on the Black Pearl with an even keel. Or, ye can take five lashes administered by myself and be put off the Pearl permanently, free to cherish your grudge an’ let it feed you.” Jack raised his eyebrows. “You have one minute to decide.”

“I’ll take the ten and stay on the Pearl,” Gihr said. “And I apologize to Lei.” He almost looked at me as he said it. Jack glanced at me, silently enquiring if I felt it was enough.

“Good enough for me,” I said.

Jack didn’t spare the lash. His face an expressionless mask, he rained down blow after blow on Gihr, bringing up blood and chunks of flesh. Gihr withstood it silently until the last, when he whimpered and fell unconscious. Some men cut him down, letting him drop to the boards without arresting his fall.

“Rum only, Lei,” Jack said in a warning tone. “No stitches. No ointment, no bandages. If Gihr can take your abilities for granted, let him stand alone upon it. Defy me and you will receive the lash as well.”

Angry that he guessed I’d been thinking of treachery, I poured the rum on Gihr and stalked back to my sling. My speed cost me a great deal of comfort. I felt in agony by the time I reached the forcastle.