Prologue: Never Shall We Die

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Fort Charles, 1729

The overcast sky cast a dreadful grey hue over the harbor town. The townspeople were gathering at the central courtyard where a mass execution was about to take place due to strict statuses introduced by Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company at Fort Charles in Port Royal.

There were hundreds of men, women, and children who stood in a single file line that was headed straight for the gallows. Guards with guns and swords stood by to ensure no one got out of line. They couldn't even if they wanted to, their wrists were shackled, and their feet were shackled, connected by heavy chains.

Seven nooses hung on the platform of the gallows. They swayed gently in the morning sea breeze while the wooden beam creaked. Some of the men stared at it with the knowledge that those ropes will soon take their life, while others dipped their head down so they didn't have to watch. They were being led to their final reward: the gallows.

"In order to affect a timely halt to deteriorating conditions and to ensure the common good, a state of emergency is declared for these territories by decree of Lord Cutler Beckett, duly appointed representative of His Majesty, the king." A man read the order off an official royal scroll.

Seven poor souls stepped before the ropes. Women had makeup running down their faces. People were silently crying, praying, or accepting their grim fate. Mothers could not comfort their children, and men could not fight for their families. There was nothing they could do but helplessly watch and wait for their turn to cross fiddler's green.

"By decree, according to martial law, the following statuses are temporarily amended:  Right to assembly, suspended."

The executioner grabbed the lever and pulled. The wood squeaked and thunked as all seven of the gallows trap-doors opened, creating seven pairs of hangman's boots. Those next in line had their chains drags on the ground as they walked up to the platform.

Tears filled the eyes of those who knew they were next and the end was near. They watched in horror as their limp bodies were removed from the ropes and hauled out of sight to be tossed like garbage. The townspeople didn't care for the dead, but they wanted to watch the brutal executions like it was a play or entertainment.

The next seven were released from their shackles and they calmly yet bravely sulked up to the gallows. Their hearts were pounding as the ropes were secured around their necks. With no last words and no warning, the lever was pulled again. The ropes tightened, and seven more pirates swung.

Faster and faster, pirates or those accused of being associated with piracy were being hung. They were being executed so fast, the executioner didn't bother to cover their terrified faces with hoods. The hoods not only spared the audience from having to see the agonized faces of the condemned, but it gave the condemned dignity, which they were being deprived of.

They were lucky if their necks broke. Those who didn't suffered a torturous journey into the afterlife. They slowly but surely choked to death. Blood wept up from their eyes, nose and mouth. Their whole bodies would thrash against their bonds as they convulsed uncontrollably, expelling every bit of waste in sheer instinctual terror. Urine would drip from their clothes, and blood would expel from their face.

"Right to habeas corpus, suspended. Right to legal counsel, suspended. Right to verdict by a jury of peers, suspended. By decree, all persons found guilty of piracy, or aiding a person convicted of piracy, or associating with a person convicted of piracy... shall be sentenced to hang by the neck until dead."

A large pile of hangman's boots were being gathered. The bodies were being cumulated and taken away on wagons to be disposed of.

A new group of seven walked up the gallows. In the middle, stood a very young boy. An innocent boy with dark brown hair that swept over his green eyes. His age was barely over ten, but he was still imprisoned and sentenced for execution for being a simple cabin boy.

The child gazed up at the noose that still swung from the last pirate that was just removed. It looked over his head like a snake waiting to strike. The boy had defeat and fear in his eyes, fear for not only himself but the entire future of his people.

In his hand was a silver piece of eight that he obtained shortly before his imprisonment. It gave him peace of mind while awaiting his punishment, and comfort in his final moments. He looked down at the shiny coin and anxiously fiddled with it in his hands. They needed help. They needed a savior. They needed a hero.

There was an air of expectancy. At any given moment, their earthly lives will immediately end. The terrified boy held a coin of eight in his hand, and he knew he was going to die anyway. He began to sing a song, a song too dangerous to be sung. He was mournfully calling for the song of the Brethren Court. His voice was low and wavering as he focused only on the song and not those who have come to see him hang.

"The king and his men stole the queen from her bed,
And bound her in her bones.
The seas be ours,
And by the powers,
Where we will, we'll roam."

The executioner came up to the boy as he sang with a barrel to stand on so he could reach the noose. He grabbed the thin child and lifted him up onto the barrel so he would be tall enough for the rope. He fit the rope around the boys neck so he couldn't escape without accidentally hanging himself.

One of the other men beside him continued the song in a soft, quivering, low voice. Tears filled his dark eyes, and his lips twitched to avoid frowning and giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

"Yo-Ho,
All hands,
Hoist the colors high."

In that moment, every man, woman, and child began to softly sing the song to summon the Brethren Court. Their sepulchral tone filled the fort, echoing together in harmony. The song was picked up by the entire assembly of prisoners. One by one, the executioner wrapped the ropes around their vibrating throats, with tears in their eyes.

The nine pieces of right began resonating. In this moment, Sao Feng would hear the resonance in his coin that was given to him by Hector Barbossa while he was in Singapore. All the members of the Fourth Brethren Court will unite at Shipwreck Cove because of this.

"Heave-ho,
Thieves and beggars,
Never shall we die."

The voices were growing louder, gaining power from what would appear to be a simple song to a commoner. The pirates standing in line were staring at the guards who were fearfully backing away from the pirates with their guns raised. The pirates clanked their chains together in rhythm to the song, sending chills down the backs of anyone listening.

"Yo ho,
Haul together,
Hoist the colors high."

"Lord Beckett!" An officer of the East India Trading Company raced to where Beckett was standing. He was facing away from the gallows, barely giving any attention to the people he condemned to death. "They've started to sing, sir."

"Heave-ho,
Thieves and beggars."

Beckett's lips twitched in an evil smirk. A shadow casted over his grey eyes that gave a glimpse of his cold-blooded ruthlessness. This was exactly what he had been waiting for. Chillingly, he replied, "finally."

The young boy clasped his hand around the coin, sending one last prayer up to the Lord.

"Never shall we die."

The voices were silenced once the executioner pulled the lever. A short drop, to a sudden stop. The ropes squeaked until their bodies thunked to the bottom, and a cry sounded as this group of hapless pirates fell to their doom. Their boots swung, but one pair was above the others.

The piece of eight slipped out of the dead cabin boys hand and it clattered to the wooden platform. An irregular, golden light glinted off its rough surface.

The line of pirates watched with dread as the young boy danced his final dance. He was forever silenced, but the song continued to be sung. His death will not be for naught, he called for help. And it will be answered.

Never shall we die.

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