To be a pirate or a king's man?

Chapter 14 - Davy Jones

Chapter 14

The isle of Davy Jones was not much to look at. Small islands of scarcely ten miles across at any point scarcely are, but Morgan assured Sam that more lay in the island than met the eye. "It's not what lies above the waves that matters, Sam; it's what rests beneath the waves," he had assured Sam when they first saw the disappointing lump of rock, three days after the incident in the brig. Morgan had bedecked himself in his finest raiment for the meeting with Jones. A deep red sea coat lined with black silk was matched by pitch black boots trimmed in red. A magnificent black tricorn with a single red plume rested on his head, and from an embroidered belt rested his twin sabres and pistols. On his right hand, he wore the three remaining wolf rings of mortals, won from Jack by right of combat, though not his to master yet.

When the Stormprow and Sea Beauty were berthed in a small, sheltered bay, Morgan led Sam and fifty men as an escort for Jack and his officers and rowed ashore in the longboats. Once beached, they started the walk to the centre of the isle, where Jones supposedly made his residence. Jack and his officers were led by chain hand and foot, marching in the centre of the group. Morgan walked ahead with Sam, following a wide stony path that was overgrown with weeds and ferns. "Do not stray from the path, or you'll never see the sea again," warned Morgan, and the men followed his advice, staying close to one another, and as close to the path as they could be. Jack laughed a scornful laugh, "Are your crew so scared of getting lost, George?" he cackled, until Morgan threateed to have him gagged. That shut him up, Sam thought as he walked on along the path through the sparse woodland of the island.

Although it could not have been more than five miles to the centre of the island, the company took near enough to half a day to get there. The path wound its way around the island, seemingly going in spirals, and a fog rose as they got further in to the island. By the time that the group got to the centre of the island, Sam found it difficult to see more than four centimetres from the end of his nose, and the group were forced to shuffle with their feet and shout out to each other in order to stay on course.

They only realised that they had found the place of Davy Jones when one of the men fell into a deep pool of water and had to be pulled out by the other crewmembers, shivering and babbling. After a minute, he began to creak as he shivered, and then his face turned blue, followed by the rest of him. The man's breath clouded from him and he slowly stiffened until he was perfectly still and perfectly blue; the blue of the sea on a  warm day. "He's as good as dead now, men, poor bugger fell into the wrong pool," Morgan told them, "Best to leave him be and find a way to save our own skins here. With the rings all gathered here, this fog's come to embrace us. Only an Ocean Wolf can find the way through here."

'Here' was a myriad of pools in the centre of the island. Some were deep, others only ankle high, but Morgan warned that only one would take a man to the home of Davy Jones. The others would just kill them in a hundred different ways. A narrow stone walkway wound between the pool, forcing the men to stay balanced and walk in single file through the deadly waters. Every so often, Morgan would break the surface of a pool with his fingertips and observe the effects; if nothing happened, he would order that one of Jack's nine remaining officers be thrown into the pool. Whatever happened to Morgan's finger healed quickly and he never seemed to feel any pain as his fingers set fire or partially dissolved. The first time a man was thrown in, the water rapidly heated, steaming the man alive and blocking the other men's vision further. In another case, the man was fine until the water rose into a whirling tornado and sprayed him with tiny drops travelling so fast that they literally tore his clothing and flesh from him, leaving him as a skeleton with limp bits of skin and muscle still hanging from joints and tendons by the time the waters subsided.

After about thirty minutes and four prisoners, Morgan found the correct pool. It was a waist-height, narrow pool, hardly big enough for two men to stand astride in. When the prisoner was thrown in to check it, he simply vanished as soon as he hit the water. "Right, this is it, lads. And a good thing too, we were running out of volunteers!" Morgan jested, before throwing the rest of the 'volunteers' into the pool and ushering the men in, who had gathered around the edge on a thin spit of rock separating the adjacent pools. One by one, the Stormprow's crew jumped in, each vanishing without a trace or even a puff of smoke as he hit the surface. Finally, only Jack, Morgan and Sam remained. "Jack and I will go first, Sam. You follow," Morgan told Sam as he grabbed Jack around the shoulders and stepped into the pool. A blink later and they were gone.

Sam looked around him. The fog was clearing, but the network of pools was spread out over at least a mile by Sam's reckoning, and without Morgan's guidance he would not be able to come out on the correct side of the pools to find the path again. It's not like I was going to ever go back to the navy now, really. Sam braced himself and stepped forward. As his foot touched the water, he felt a wash of coldness over his body, and then it vanished and he disappeared. A microsecond later, he reappeared, bone dry, in a dark cavern surrounded by the other members of the crew. Above his head was a narrow dip, roughly one hundred centimetres high and scarcely wide enough for two men to stand astride under. We're underneath the island, Sam realised. On the roof above them, there were the bottoms of the pools they had just crossed, and on the base of each was a carved symbol. A tornado surrounding a skeleton, a flame and a severed head were on some of the ones he noticed as the group began moving again, down a slope that was in a narrow corridor that split off from the rest of the cavern.

Morgan was leading the way, followed by Sam and three crewmen. The prisoners and Jack followed, with the remaining crewmembers bringing up the rear. Jack was silent and hung his head for once, maybe thinking about the sentence that Jones would sentence him to, although this was likely to be death or worse. After an hour of travelling down the rocky corridor, Morgan stopped at a junction. He though for a minute, and then turned right, into the face a sheer rock wall. There were five indents in the wall, one red, one green, one blue, one gold, and one black. The colours were arranged in a diamond shape around the black, which was in the centre. Morgan pressed his red ring into the wall, which creaked and became translucent. "Follow me," he said, before walking through the door. Sam saw his silhouette on the other side, and then walked through himself, trying not to think that he was walking through a rock wall. 

On the other side of the wall, a great hall of wood stretched out from the entrance. A table was in the middle of the hall, with one chair at the head and two smaller ones on each side. In the chair at the head of the table sat a man, sitting high in his station. He had a coat similar to Morgan and Jack's but grander, with silver decorating the hem and lining. A great black beard grew from his face, with silver clasps holding the ends together. His hat was a large tricorn, again black with silver trim and the pistols that were tucked into his clothing were black ebony with silver skulls on the handles. A single sword made of folded steel, somehow coloured black, hung from his sword belt and was enclosed in a sheath of a similar pattern and design. Davy Jones rose, "My welcome to you, brother." he embraced Morgan, then turned to Jack, who was standing tall, even with his manacles dragging his arms down. "You! Morgan, why did you bring this scum to me?"

"He killed our other brothers and tried to do the same to me. He was gathering the rings so that he could gain the power to overthrow you, I brought him here to face judgement for his crime." Morgan replied, tersely.

"If course he would. I told him to, you foolish pirate. Jack is easily the most powerful of the Ocean Wolves, besides me, so I can use that. The four coloured rings together are an equal power to the black, and with them in the hands of a trusted servant, I could rule the entire ocean and vanquish all of the 'mighty empires' that dare to challenge my reign! Jack was never working against me, and the green ring you saw destroyed was only a channel of power. I have since created a new one, worthy of the station of heir to the ocean. Come forward, Jack." Jones smiled as Jack came forward, through the crewmembers that seemed to be stunned into silence and immovability. Morgan stammered, trying to work around it all as Jack accepted the ring from Morgan. "Now, Jack, kill Morgan and take his rings so that you may take your place as my heir and lieutenant." Jones commanded, and Jack turned.

"Wait," Morgan cried, "You killed your family and friends because of this man. Will you now serve him?"

"They were in the way of my glory, even my sweet fiancée, so thy had to go. I agreed with Jones on that, besides, they were getting nearly as annoying as you!" Jack swiped down.