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The stream of perfectly cut diamonds trickled through the fingers of his right hand down into the palm of his left hand. The shaft of sunlight arrowing down from the cavern roof created a scintillating rainbow of colour that fascinated the Pirate Captain.

“Well, Gibbs. Do you think Elizabeth would like this as her wedding present?” Jack asked from the top of the unstable mound of gold and jewels.

Gibbs shuddered as he watched Jack sway his unsteady way down the treacherous heap of treasure hidden deep within the Isla de la Muerta.

“Aye she’d love it, but… ’tis unlucky to give a new bride any part of this cursed treasure!” he said, watching Sparrow wrap it in a piece of gold damask before dropping it into his pocket.

Gibbs stepped carefully over a spill of golden doubloons and finally gave up as the sparkle lured him into temptation; the gruff sailor scooped up a couple of handfuls of gold and jewels and slipped them into his pockets before following Jack’s swaying walk back to the boat.

 “Now to find a gift for the groom. Any suggestions?”

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

The Black Pearl drifted through the deep fog with her sails drooping from her masts. The sea was as ripple free as a pane of the most expensive glass he’d ever seen.  Jack peered up at the sails, hanging there with nary a breath of wind to stir them, and listened for any sound other than those created onboard the Pearl.

“Unnatural… that’s what it is, we should never have touched that cursed treasure!” Gibbs said, peering out into the depths of the rolling fog.

Jack turned to face his superstitious first mate and studied the distinctly worried expression on Gibbs face. “Now matey, what’s the odds of two pieces of cursed treasure being in the same place at the same time and being picked up by yours truly?” Jack replied cheerily as he turned to sashay his way back into his cabin.

A faint creaking noise that he knew didn’t belong to the Black Pearl had him freezing in place, listening for a repeat. And the muffled voice of the lookout echoing faintly through the thick fog startled him.

“Ship off the starboard bow!”

Jack spun around, one hand held out for balance as he teetered unsteadily on his feet  then stepped over to the right hand railing and peered into the swirling depths toward the mystery ship that ghosted towards them.  The Pearl’s pirate crew lined up along the gunwales with their Captain, each trying to identify the ship that drifted closer as they watched.  

They could see from the way the sails were carefully furled along the yards on each of the three masts and the way the deck was styled, that this was a ship the likes of which had not been seen anywhere on the High Seas for at least a hundred years.

A finger of icy cold ran up their spines when the vessel floated closer and they saw inscribed in pure gold for all to see on the bow; the name ‘Morgan’s Rose’ The name of the legendary Sir Henry Morgan being on the bow impressing even the likes of Captain Jack Sparrow.

“Prepare for boarding, ye scurvy swabs,” Jack cried out, leaping up onto the gunwales and clutching at the rigging.

“Ye heard the Captain, prepare for boarding!” Gibbs roared out, echoing Sparrow’s orders and sending the crew scurrying about, grabbing grappling irons.  The pirate crew lined up against the side of the Black Pearl, some of them swinging the irons as they prepared to heave to alongside the strangely quiet craft. 

Sparrow studied the distance between the ships shrinking slowly until, with a grinding crash, the two ships met and rebounded.  A series of metallic clinks rang through the still air as the grapples took grip and Jack’s crew hauled their prey alongside the Pearl.  A shiver ran through Jack and his crew when no one appeared on deck to find out what was making the noise.

When the two ships were finally gunwale to gunwale Jack stepped aboard. As he set foot on the deck of the Morgan’s Rose, she suddenly sheered away from the Pearl and with a stuttering series of sharp retorts that echoed through the thick fog filled air, the ropes holding the two ships together snapped and the vessels pulled apart.

Jack grabbed hold of the rigging as he climbed back on to his feet from where the surge had thrown him to the deck. Checking the deck for the whereabouts of his hat, he peered over at the Pearl and saw Gibbs and the rest of his frantic crew scurrying around like an army of industrious ants.

When he saw Gibbs come to the side of the Pearl, he waved at him, signalling that he was okay. Faintly he heard Gibbs yelling at the crew as they tried to reconnect with the Ghost Ship.  A creak from behind Jack had him freezing into position, his eyes shifting to one side with his head turning to follow them. Behind him, the door to the cabin creaked open then creaked shut again swinging in time with the movement of the ship. 

He sauntered forward slowly, aiming for the steps leading up to the Poop Deck. Ducking under the window level, he removed his hat then raised his head until his kohl lined eyes could look over the sill and into the day cabin beyond.  Unfortunately, the tiny glazed windows were of a type that would not allow the riff raff to gawk at their betters and he could see nothing through the thick glass.

A flicker of light through the windows seemed to drag him forward towards the door like a Magpie is attracted to the glitter of gold. The light flickered a few more times as if a candle had been lit and was moving in the breeze coming through the door.

Jack reached out a hand and caught the slowly swinging door before it could move again, pushing it open he looked into the day cabin of the Rose. The layout of the cabin was nothing unusual to him as it contained several sideboards, a desk and several high backed chairs.  Finding nothing out of place in that part of the cabin other than the age of the furnishings, he turned his attention to the other end of the cabin and the carefully laid table complete with candlesticks and lit candles.

The smell of roast beef dragged him towards the table where a plate with several slices of freshly cut meat was steaming gently into the cold air that surrounded him.  Reaching out he lifted the cover from one of the serving dishes to find steaming vegetables. A shiver of unease ran up his spine as he noticed that only one place had been set at the table.  

Something brushed against his shoulder, startling him into jumping sideways. Pulling a pistol from his sash, Jack turned to face the empty air of a deserted cabin.  He shuddered, an icy finger running up his spine and sure to the depths of his very being that there had been someone just behind him. A clink from behind him had him spinning around again to the sight of red wine swirling in the crystal glass on the table and a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye.

Walking towards where he’d seen the movement, the screech of wood being dragged over wood distracted him; the chair had been pulled away from the table as if to invite him to be seated for the repast before him. Sparrow sidled into place at the table, half expecting the chair to be pushed into place behind him  as he sat down. 

The scent of the cooked food provided some incentive for him to reach out and pick up the knife and fork to either side of the laden plate. The knife sliced through the tender meat like a hot knife through butter.  The fork lifted the fragment of beef up to his mouth and with a gulp of trepidation, he forced himself to bite down. The rich taste of the beef flooded into his mouth and in a millionth of a second overcame all thought of flight. 

The burst of flavour freed him from thought and he proceeded to stuff the hot fresh food into his mouth, unaware until now of his hunger.  Reaching out he picked up the cut crystal goblet, half full of a rich ruby red wine. The light glinted from the facets as he sipped delicately at the fine wine. 

His eyes followed the patches of light around the cabin, before alighting on a painting of a young lady in an outdated dress. An air of sombre despair seemed to hover all around the painting.

Jack froze as he realized that the lady’s blue eyes appeared to be focused on him.  Laying the cutlery down on the table, he stood up and walked over to the painting for a better look, picking up one of the lit candles as he passed by. The young subject of the painting was dressed in fine lace and what appeared to be peach coloured silks and satin as well.  She was seated almost sideways on to the painter with her right hand placed on top of her left and looking to her right out of the painting directly at him.

 He looked closer and a shiver went through him as he noticed the jewellery she was wearing, matched that of the necklace currently residing in his pocket. He thrust his hand deep into his coat pocket and pulled out the gold damask wrapped bundle containing the diamond necklace.

Jack unwrapped the piece of jewellery and held the sparkling diamonds up before the picture, double checking that what he held in his hands was in fact the original of the necklace the woman in the painting was wearing and broke into a cold sweat when it was confirmed.

“Bloody Hell, Gibbs is never going to let me live this down...”  

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

Jack jimmied open the lock on the desk in the Captain’s Cabin, pulling the drawer towards him with a sharp jerk; the force of the motion moving the contents towards the back of the drawer.  Looking at the things in the drawer he reached out and drew out a book covered in black leather that was fastened shut with leather cord. He had found the Log Book of the ‘Morgan’s Rose’.

He juggled it in his hand, debating with himself as to the contents. Finally, squirming himself deeper within the leather chair he sat in, he started to untie the cord holding the book closed. The smell of dusty aged paper came to his nose as he gently opened the pages, turning the pages the crackle of old paper almost drowned out the sound of the sea outside the ship.

Turning to the last entry in the Journal his hands tried to smooth out the last of the written pages and, angling the book to catch the light, started to read to himself of the last fateful voyage of the ‘Morgan’s Rose’.

“On this day of our Lord 15^th September 1680, a great disaster struck this vessel and I must record the dreadful happenings.” Jack read aloud, skimming down the page to where it explained the events.

“We were becalmed in a place of mists,” Jack mumbled to himself, glancing out of the cabin porthole at the thickening mists outside with a shudder.

“A ship appeared out of the mists and attacked us. We fought as hard as we could to defend the ‘Rose’ and our mistress but the Pyrates outnumbered us and took most of our men’s lives.” He looked up towards the painting wondering if she were the mistress mentioned in the ship’s log.

“After slaying all but a few and leaving most of those injured nigh unto death, they found our most guarded treasure,” Jack sat up straight, his attention now firmly fixed on the book before him.

“They took the dowry belonging to the Lady Rosamund Trevanion, a diamond necklace called ‘The Star’s Heart’ and with it her curse,” Jack felt the hackles on the back of his neck start to rise at the mention of a curse.

“Lady Rosamund and her beloved Lord Nicholas Morgan were on their way to Jamaica to be married before his Uncle, Sir Henry Morgan. With them they carried the Trevanion dowry.  They were accompanied as was proper by the Lady Elsabeth of Conwy, who journeyed with them as chaperone at the behest of their families.” An eyebrow rose as he registered the name Morgan.

“When the Pyrates took the necklace Lady Rosamund stood upon the main deck surrounded by a glowing light and pronounced a curse upon them for the murder of her beloved Nicholas, swearing they would be as the undead until a good man defeated them.  For this they sunk a sword deep into her side and then fled from the ‘Rose’.” Jack’s other eyebrow rose to join its mate. 

“With her dying breath she spoke a spell which I have tried to render faithfully below.” Jack glanced slowly down at the rhyme written below just before the last entry.

“With the Star’s Heart plundered

True Love was sundered

Star’s return by one good hearted

Will rejoin those long parted”

“I feel myself starting to fade, but have a feeling that in time all will be well,” Jack looked up from the last entry and at all of the signs of a well kept ship and the meal laid waiting for him on the table.

“Well, I’m here and I’ve got the necklace with me…Any suggestions as to what happens next?” he asked, pushing his long legs further under the desk.

Something brushed against his leg, sending a surge of adrenalin straight through his nervous system. Instantly, he leaped out of the chair and was facing the desk with his pistol cocked and primed, ready to fire upon the monster that had tried to grab his leg.

Jack peered into the darkness of the space beneath the desk to see a pair of small blue eyes peering back at him, he stared harder trying to make out the form before him.  What sounded like a purring growl echoed around the cabin as a tiny cat the colour of a misty sunrise stalked out of the darkness and showed her distain by turning her back on the Pirate and twitching her tail at him.

Jack watched the cat walk across the cabin and past the table towards the portrait of the Lady then with a single bound leap up on the sideboard situated immediately in front of the painting.  The cat started to pad around in ever decreasing circles until she was seated upright facing towards the doors with her right paw resting on top of her left and a long fluffy tail curled around her body, giving her the appearance of sitting on a matching cushion.

Something brushed against his shoulder distracting him from the animal now seated before the painting and he sensed something forming behind him; a breath of icy air coming from behind him ruffled his hair and raised the hackles on the back of his neck.  He pivoted slowly to face away from the cat and faced a dozen ghostly figures in outdated clothing. In the lead was a young gentleman dressed in the manner of a member of the upper class.

The ghostly figure stopped just before the pirate, letting Jack study the face of the young man. With a cheeky grin that showed every one of his gold teeth, Sparrow addressed the ghost.  “Lord Nicholas, I presume?” he said, sweeping a bow and showing that sometime during his deep dark past Jack Sparrow had been raised properly. 

Jack frowned as the ghostly figures all attempted to communicate at the same time. Shaking his head, Jack started to read their lips, then threw both hands into the air in disgust.  “By Blackbeard’s gizzard, slow down and face me or by Davy Jones locker I’ll take the necklace and leave…I can’t read your lips that fast or through the back of your head!” he ranted.

He raised his left hand and ran one finger under his eye as his memory flashed back to the feel of silk slithering on naked skin and the group of incredibly attentive women that had hidden a ragged pirate on the run; he’d climbed over the wall into the one place the Sultan of Jahore wouldn’t look for him… His Harem.

One of the Sultana’s handmaidens had been a mute and had taught him how to read lips. The sweet taste of cherries and chocolate still remained linked irretrievably to that memory.  Jack shook his head, trying to chase away the errant thoughts swirling through his head and refocused on the figures before him.

The Sultan’s wives had appreciated the ‘gifts’ he had for them and after painting his eyes and hiding the rest of his face behind a veil had concealed him amongst their handmaidens. The Sultan’s Eunuchs had never discovered he was there, which was a good thing for they had no wish to see him end up by losing his essentials.

The ghosts had backed away from the irate pirate, much as if his own crew would when he was in a similar mood, leaving only Lord Nicholas to stand sheepishly in front of the peeved pirate.  Jack took a deep breath and attempted to calm down before continuing with his task.

“I savvy that ye’ve been waiting for a long time, but haste never won a rich prize. Now that I think of it I can think of a few times haste has come in handy!” Jack rambled on, not noticing the glimmer of a smile starting to appear on the ghost’s face.

“Now face me and speak slowly, I’ve only ever used this to stay away from the Sultan’s clutches… bloody octopus!” Jack said with a grumble.

The ghost smiled then started to speak silently, mouthing a message for Jack to try and understand.  Sparrow’s eyebrow’s started to crawl up his forehead as the ghost’s instructions were finally understood.

“Ye mean all I have to do is put the necklace around your lady’s throat?” Jack said unbelieving.  Lady Rosamund’s ghostly fiancé just nodded slowly and Jack swung around trying to spot her whereabouts in the cabin. “And where is the lady in question?” he said, examining every nook and cranny around him.

A sharp stabbing pain in the upper thigh sent him lunging forward, straight through the disembodied form of Lord Nicholas to trip over the edge of the Persian rug; with a thud he landed face down on the soft woollen surface and skidded across the cabin floor.  The smooth slide across the polished boards came to a stop half way under the table and being the pirate he was, Jack automatically examined the rug beneath his nose and figured its worth down to the last penny.

Scrambling out from beneath the table, he nursed the row of pin holes in the back of his leg where the cat had sunk each and every needle sharp claw in her front paws delicately into the flesh of his leg above the boot line. Rubbing the back of his leg he climbed back to his feet, using the table as a handy climbing frame until, peering over the top, his eyes met the unrepentant jewel like blue eyes of the cat sitting on the table looking down at him.

Jack felt his eyes start to cross as the cat stared him down. A rumbling growl could be heard and felt vibrating it’s way through the table, inspiring Jack to scrabble through the contents in his pocket, before hauling out a gold damask bundle that he dropped on the table and unfolded to reveal in a blaze of light, the diamond necklace called the Star’s Heart.

Jack glanced around and noticed that both the ghosts and cat were all looking down on the piece of cursed treasure currently residing on the table and quickly scrambled to his feet, tugging his clothing back into good order before nonchalantly stepping up to the table to pick up the necklace and hold it up to the light.

“’Tis a shame, Elizabeth would have loved you,” he said with a sigh. 

Looking down at the cat he reached out and dropped the necklace over its head and around its neck, then watched as the cat bounded off the table onto the floor with a yowl of distress.   

A whirlwind of golden light swirled around the form of the cat, growing taller by the second until it was the same height as the young lady that stepped from it.  Jack blinked as she reached out and brushed her fingers over the ghost standing before her, shattering the curse.

Lord Nicholas reached out and folded his long lost love into his arms, his lips descending to brush over hers in a breathy moan before crushing their lips together in a passion long parted, but now at last rejoined.

“Oh Nicholas!” she wailed softly clutching the sleeve of his jerkin, trying to stay upright as the strength in her knees failed her and she started to collapse.

“Oh Rosamund… beloved, I worship the very ground you walk upon,” he groaned, the fire in his body starting to burn out of control from the feel of her in his arms.

"Tell me this is real," Rosamund sighed.

Nicholas chose to reassure her again with his lips and another awkward interval followed as they sought to become mutually certain.

Nicholas broke the kiss. "I cherish and adore you. I live and die in you. I love you like the rain, Rosamund, like the rain."

"I love you like the rain too," testified Rosamund moistly.

"Oh, God! Say it again! No, stop, don't!" Nicholas said, his face incandescent with devotion. "You don't have to say that, it doesn't matter. Oh, Rosamund, my angel, my light, my all. Just let me serve you. Let me wait upon your word and tremble at your smile. Let me... let me... sail the world and bring you the treasures that you deserve..."

"You can turn pirate and I'll still love you," smiled Rosamund.

"Rosamund," vowed Nicholas, "I am your possession. I am in your hands. Tell me I am yours."

Rosamund kissed his nose. "You first."

“Oh! Bloody hell!!” Jack said, starting to look ill as the young couple descended into sickly confessions of love.

One of the other ex-ghosts coughed loudly trying to interrupt the long parted lovers, before they totally forgot their audience.  The young couple sprang apart their faces a bright red in embarrassment, as the sounds finally registered and they remembered they were not alone.

Rosamund looked up into Jack’s face, blushing prettily before reaching up to finger the necklace around her neck “May we know the name of our rescuer?” she said breathlessly.

Jack swept his tricorn hat from his head with a flourish and, holding it to his chest, bowed, “The name’s Sparrow, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl to be precise” he said, flashing a grin.

Her eyes widened at the discovery of the identity of their saviour. She turned back to Nicholas and looked up into his face.  “Oh Nicholas, could we be so fortunate,” she said her lower lip starting to tremble with emotion.

Before Nicholas could speak Rosamund had already stepped up to the table where the pirate stood, reaching out she clutched at Jacks arm and peered up at him from eyes that glistened with unshed tears of joy. “You are a Captain! That means you can marry us!” she exclaimed with anticipation.

Jack staggered backwards into the edge of the table as the suddenly brazen female grabbed at his arm, putting him in mind of a very determined Elizabeth.  Shaking his head he tried to sidle around the table trying to put it between him and ‘her’.

“Pirate, love…marryin’ people ain’t in the Code, least not one I know of!” Jack said, still backing away.

Lady Rosamund just looked thoughtful for a moment, the plan of action speeding through her mind bringing a gleam to her eyes.  A gleam that reminded Jack of the look in a tigers’ eye’s just before it decided upon dining out.

“You are a Captain, are you not?” Rosamund asked

“Yes, but…” he said, a sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach.

“And you’re aboard a Merchant vessel without a Captain,” she stated.

“But…” Jack replied, trying to get an entire sentence finished.

“Therefore you are a Captain onboard a Merchant vessel and as such can marry us!!” Rosamund finished with a satisfied flourish.

Jack just blinked, the twisted logic of her explanation giving him a headache and from the look on Nicholas’ face he had one too.

One of the Rose’s crew walked over to a cabinet to one side of the table and opened the door, revealing a row of leather bound books.  Reaching in, he pulled out a slim black bound book with gold titles and handed it to Jack.

“Seein’ as you’ll be marryin’ the two love birds you’ll need this,” he said.

Jack looked at the title of book and grinned. “Brings back memories this does!” he said, opening the Prayer Book.

Flicking through the book he found the section on Matrimony and started to softly read aloud parts of it as he skimmed over the words. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered… show any just cause… Wilt thou have this woman…” Jack mumbled, a crease starting to form between his eyebrows as the length and complexity of the service started to worry him. “Sod it!” he cried at last, closing the book sharply.

“Is there something wrong?” Nicholas asked, starting to worry over the expression on Jack’s face.

“This is going to go wrong, it’s too old fashioned to use without some practice, so we’re going to use a modern version instead!” Jack said decisively. He glanced down at the book he held in his hands, cleared his throat and began.

“Do you, Nicholas, take this woman to be your wedded wife, to love honour and cherish from this day forth?” Jack started, a feeling like a whirlpool churning away inside him making him feel ill.

“I do...” Nicholas sighed, gazing down into her eyes with adoration.

“Do you, Rosamund, take this man to be your wedded husband, to love honour and cherish from this day forth?” Jack continued, before the feeling of queasiness got worse.

“I do...” she replied, with misty eyes looking up into her beloved’s face.

“Then I now pronounce you wedded… let’s celebrate!” Jack announced, relieved to have got through the ordeal unscathed.

“Oh Jack, now that the curse has gone and we are wedded. It is now time for us to be gone,” Rosamund stated.

“Gone, love?” Jack said with dismay.

“Yes, Captain Sparrow, we should have left this world many years ago,” Nicholas replied.

“But what about the party?” he said wistfully, a brief image of Elizabeth burning the rum running through his mind.

“Jack, we only have a short time left, just enough time to give you this,” she said removing her necklace and holding it out to him.

“And just enough time for you to return to your ship, before all you see here returns to the mists of time,” Nicholas continued as a golden mist formed around the bodies of both he, his new wife and the crew of the ‘Morgan’s Rose’.

Jack watched, clutching the necklace to his chest as those before him faded into a golden waterfall of light then faded away.

The deck beneath him lurched, knocking him off his feet as the whole ship shuddered. Climbing back to his feet, Jack rubbed the area of his anatomy that now had an impressive number of bruises with one hand whilst dropping the necklace into his pocket with the other.

Moving with haste out of the cabin he saw his crew throw the grapples over the gunwales of the Rose, drawing the two ships together.  Feeling the Rose settle further into the water, Jack stepped hastily over to the side and leapt up onto the gunwales. The Pearl gently bumped the side of the Rose and he stepped over onto his own ship.

“Cast off the grapples,” Jack yelled out, feeling that time was running out quickly. “Move yer lily livered swabs, before the Pearl goes down as well!” he roared out trying to impart a sense of urgency to the task.

The crew immediately slackened off the lines holding the grappling irons taught and shook them loose, then using boat hooks and oars tried to shove the two ships apart.

A sudden surge from a current moved the two ships apart and the crew watched silently as the Morgan’s Rose slid beneath the surface, the cool waters of the ocean closing over her final resting place.

Gibbs ambled along the deck until he stood alongside Jack Sparrow and both stood and looked at the sea, at the spot where the other ship had finally met its end.

“Told you it was cursed,” Gibbs said emphatically.

“Next time I’ll have the stuff blessed before I bring it aboard,” Jack muttered,  still gazing  at the flat ocean beside the Pearl. The sun breaking through the mists glinting on the waves.

“Well, Jack, what’s next?” Gibbs said, raising an eyebrow.

Jack turned to look at Gibbs and asked the all important question. “What do you think of another new hat for Will?”

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