The Legend of Harley Rose: Part 1

Clink! Two wooden tankards foaming with beer splashed together. They each pressed against the furry mouths of grimy pirates with yellow stained teeth and black gums, smiling wide and laughing abrasively. They sat in a noisy tavern; cheers, fights, and singing made up the music of room. The pirates sat across from each other. Knox and Lincoln.

Lincoln looked past Knox and saw a brawl, between two stout men, burly and wild. They grappled each other, scrawny men and scandalous women rooting for their preferred victor. One of the men tackled the other into the table, snapping the round wood slab in half. The drinks and food went flying, splattering the walls and staining the clothes of the viewers. The men rolled over and looked at each other. They burst into wild laughter.

Lincoln took another gulp of his beer. He slammed it down and licked off the foamy mustache that coated his actual mustache. Knox was staring at Lincoln, stroking his bushy beard.

“Lincoln,” he coughed, wincing and then taking another swallow of beer. “Do you know why we cheers?” Knox had a gravelly voice.

“Because it’s good to drink with someone!” Lincoln picked up his glass excitedly, spilling on the table.

“It’s for trust, mate,” he said, licking his teeth, then spitting on the floor. “The Romans did it back in the day.”

“The Romans…” Lincoln pondered, as if trying to remember which one were the Romans.

“They’d slam their drinks together so it’d spill in to each other’s cups,” Knox explained. “See if they tried to poison one another.” He raised an eyebrow. Lincoln instinctually looked in his tankard. “Perhaps we trust each other, mate.”

Lincoln leaned forward and smiled a wide yellow smile. “Aye, Knox. Perhaps we do.”

“Aye,” Knox nodded proudly. “I thought so.” Knox tilted the tankard up in the air gulped down the rest of his beer. He sighed loudly and wiped the beer off his mouth with the cuff of his shirt. He slammed the tankard on the table but didn’t let go of his grip. He stared at the tankard. “You know the tale of Harley Rose, don’t you, Lincoln?” Knox inquired.

Lincoln shook his head,” No, Knox, I can’t say I have.”

Knox sighed deeply. He pushed aside his tankard and leaned forward into the table, face to face with Lincoln. Knox smiled a toothless smile and stared at Lincoln. Lincoln smiled wide and nodded gleefully. Knox dropped the smile in an instant, Lincoln dropped his nervously. “Back when Blackbeard was still sailing the seven seas, he brought aboard a pretty lady for himself. To… ‘entertain’ himself later.” Lincoln giggled. “She came aboard and they drank wine and feasted til morning,” Knox depicted, using his hands to imagine the scene. “He brought her into his captain’s quarters and they had a rather fine night together. But before they did, she asked him a question. Still drunk head to toe, Blackbeard answered her question honestly. When he woke up the next morning, Blackbeard turned over and saw the pretty lady was gone. He walked out in his trousers and demanded the crew bring forth his maiden. The crew didn’t know who he was talking about. ‘Harley Rose!’ he shouted. ‘The woman I ate and drank with and lay with!’ The crew looked curiously at each other. ‘Captain,’ one of them said. ‘You didn’t bring a lady into your quarters last night. Blackbeard shouted again, ‘Don’t try to hide her from me, you scurvy rodent! Bring out Harley Rose!’ The crew told him again that he had no one in his quarters last night. Blackbeard insisted upon it, bringing out her plate of food to show she had eaten. But after the third time the crew told him they never saw a woman aboard… t’was the only time Blackbeard had ever shown fear.”

Lincoln had locked eyes with Knox in his captivating tale. “Where’d she go?” he asked eagerly.

Knox paused. “She was a ghost.”

Chills ran down Lincoln’s spine. “A ghost?”

“Aye. A ghost.”

“How did she eat and drink and, well, make love then?”

Knox leaned back and stated plainly, “To most she is a ghost. To others she is mortal, capable of doing mysterious things, like disappearing and enchantments. But the legend says she is the daughter of Calypso, the daughter of Atlas.”

“Calypso?” Lincoln repeated in a hushed tone. “The Calypso?”

“Aye,” Knox uttered. “The Calypso.”

“The one that fell in love with Davy Jones?”

“Aye. The Calypso.”

“Harley Rose is Davy Jones daughter?” Lincoln realized.

“Perhaps.” Knox looked at Lincoln, who was looking around in amazement.

A woman came to their table and took their tankards away. “More beer, darlings?”

“Rum, my sweet,” Knox grinned. The woman took the tankard and nodded, walking away.

“What a tale,” Lincoln acknowledged. “I suppose she’s not worth coming across, is she?” Knox tapped on the table with his dirty nails, deep in thought. “Mate,” Lincoln wondered, “what was the question she asked Blackbeard?”

Knox stopped tapping on the table. He looked up at his companion. “She asked him where his treasure was.”

“Blackbeard’s lost treasure,” Lincoln’s eyes grew. “Did he tell her?”

“Aye. He told her.”

Lincoln waited for Knox to finish the story, but he sat there in silence. “Well, Knox, where is it? Where’s the treasure?”

“Only she knows, mate,” Knox regretfully informed. “The rest of the legend says she found his treasure and hid it in a grotto on the island of Caraloque. Where Caraloque is has yet to be discovered.”

The woman came back with rum for the pirates. Knox smiled at her while Lincoln looked down in disappointment. “Doesn’t seem to be worth all the trouble then, does it?” he started. “Blackbeard’s treasure’s been missing for centuries now, it’s still missing whether she’s got it or not. It’s still the same. Lost treasure in a mysterious location.”

A slow grin formed under Knox’s curved nose. “Harley Rose found Blackbeard’s treasure,” he restated, and then he looked up at Lincoln. “Apparently Black Bart Roberts had a night with Harley Rose.” Lincoln held the rim of the cup to his lips and froze. Knox let his smile grow. “He buried some of his treasure west of Britain, overseas, they say, along with his diamond crucifix. They also say that when Black Bart spent the night with Harley Rose, he drank and drank until he spilled the location of his treasure.”

Lincoln began to realize what Knox was explaining. “Henry Morgan carried a gold encrusted rapier,” Knox continued, taking a sip of his rum. “Said to have kept it for himself, while doing some of the Brit’s biddings, you see. He kept fair portions and found a nice little cove where he buried some of his findings for himself later. He put his golden rapier in that cove, mate. He had himself a night with the daughter of Davy Jones, mate. He got drunk and told her where that golden rapier was, mate.” Knox suddenly grasped his rum and gulped it all down, slamming it hard against the table. “It goes on and on, mate!” he growled. “Captain after captain has had an unlucky night with the Ghost Lady of the Sea, drawing out their hidden treasure with wine and taking it all for herself, stashing it deep in her grotto on the island of Caraloque. The legend says, Lincoln, that Harley Rose is the keeper of all lost treasures.

Lincoln licked his lips and breathed slowly. “Alright then. What does it mean for us?”

Knox reached across the table and took Lincoln’s rum, pouring half of it in his empty cup. He lifted his cup and looked at Lincoln. “As the Romans trusted each other, spilling their drink in each other’s cups, I asked you once if you trust me. You said yes.”

Lincoln lifted his cup. “I still say yes.”

“Aye. There’s a captain I’d like for us to meet. Captain Montana Ross.”

“Montana ‘Smile’ himself?”

“Aye. The Smile himself.”

“Is he here?”

“Aye, Lincoln. Montana Ross is here.” Knox jammed his finger into the table. “The folk here say he’s putting together a crew to bury all the treasure he’s ever found.”

“All of it?” Lincoln gasped.

“All of it. Every coin of gold and medallion he’s ever kept for himself. Montana looks to bury it all.”

“What for?”

Knox brought his cup of rum towards the center. “To meet Harley Rose.”

Lincoln looked at his companion, slowly laughing to himself, understanding the quest they were about to embark on. “Alright then,” Lincoln smiled. “I trust you, Knox.” He swung his cup of rum into Knox’s, splashing the rum into each other’s drinks, and they swallowed the rum in a single sip.