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Chapter
Two: The Gold
Calls
The gold is incorruptible. Never will it rust. Never does it
decay. Under the ashes and the crumbling stones of long-dead nations
it yet glitters. Among the bones of decaying princes it still
glows. Down in the crushing depths of the sea, in the rotting
bellies of unlucky ships, the gold waits, gleaming patiently.
Unlike the furious, corruptible mortals who scurry frantically
about the surface of the earth, the gold of earths molten
heart is patient.
For goldfor the sake of that immortal shinethe rivers
of the earth have run red with blood. Kingdoms have fallen. The
seas have hissed under rains of fire. Kin have slain kin. Treachery
and betrayal, power and cruelty, sacrifice and vengeance march
in its train. And still the gold waitshammered or molded,
drawn into fine wires, in heavy ingots or the frailest leafall
eternal.
To forge a curse eternally binding, the only possible element
is gold. Only gold can hold the memory of past atrocities long
enough. Only gold can be counted on to deliver retribution down
uncounted centuries. The gold remembers. The gold calls.
As the waters of Port Royals bay close over the body of
the unconscious girl, the gold medallion wakes. For years it has
been locked in a dusty drawer, whispering. But now it is free
again, and the ocean shudders with the thunder of its call. The
great currents of the air shift and fog rises to blot out the
sun.
Two puny mortals stare at each other in wild surmise, feeling
the change in the wind, seeing the ensign of their ship reverse
the course of its flight.
What was that? whispers Murtogg, clapping his hand
to his hat.
I dont know. Mulroy shrugs nervously. The gold
is always a mystery.
Trees lash. The hanging bodies of the unconsecrated dead rattle
and sway. The soldiers running towards the dock hasten their steps
in unexplained fear.
Make way! they cry.
And somewhere, far out in the trackless sea, something dark hears
that call and comes about with the new wind and begins its stalk
inexorably towards the gold.

Chapter 3
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