The Tale of the Corsair's Goblet

Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Ammand, his goblet, or any other story element that derives from the POTC franchise. Everything else is mine.

Dedication

This story is dedicated with great affection

to the memory of my old friend, Dr. Henry Field,

whose personal reminiscences

of sheiks and their banquets inspired it.

❦

Can such splendour truly be found outside of heaven? Captain Ammand mused, as he entered the banquet hall of the sultan Osmanoglu for the first time. None of the stories from his predecessor, the previous Pirate Lord of the Black Sea, had prepared him for the reality of the imperial palace. He stared at the fabled golden arabesques and exquisitely tinted tiles that covered the walls, and the rich carpets layered upon the marble floor. Only that morning, the young captain, still new to his office as Pirate Lord, had proudly delivered the annual tribute from the Barbary Corsairs to the sultan's wazir. However, he had quickly come to realise that no pirate treasure could hope to compare with the riches that surrounded him here. And now he was to sit at a feast with Osmanoglu, his officials, and the courtiers.

Taking his place on the dais, the sultan signaled for Ammand and the other guests to begin partaking of the meats, delicacies, and sweet dishes before them. As the fine wines warmed his blood and made joyful his spirits, Ammand continued to gaze about him in wonder. The light from the multitude of pierced lanterns filled the hall with a glow as rich as a mist of pure gold, flowing over the banquet table and illuminating the faces of the revelers. Despite the warmth and softening effect of the light, the cruel and forbidding nature of the aged sultan was still apparent in his craggy face, with his wintery beard and eyes as hard and dark as ebony.

Beguiled by the wine and the shimmering haze of light, Ammand idly continued to study the faces of the guests, until his deep brown eyes fixed upon a young lady of most beautiful appearance, who was seated near Osmanoglu. Ammand held his breath as he gazed upon her; the radiance of her face was fair like a newly risen moon, her stature was straight and slender as a young sapling, and her dark eyes under her arched brows were soft and roving like those of the wanton gazelle. And yet, she sighed and cast down her glances as if some sadness weighed upon her. Ammand felt as if his wits would be stricken from him by such loveliness. At her feet sat a wizened old serving-woman who waited upon her mistress.

As was the custom during these feasts, the sultan would order his servants to bring forth his most impressive treasures to be admired by his guests. Tonight, however, he turned to Ammand.

"Before I display the wonders of my treasury, I would have our new guest entertain us with a tale," the sultan commanded, drinking deeply from his cup. "Ammand, you must tell us of your most prized treasures and how you came to capture them."

Ammand knew that Osmanoglu asked this in order that his kingly treasures would appear all the more magnificent by comparison to a pirate's plunder. And whether it was his own youthfulness or the presence of the lady that prompted Ammand to rashness, he impulsively took a small, plain pewter goblet from his pocket and set it before him.

"This goblet is the sign of my pirate lordship," he said. "I received it when I became the Pirate Lord of the Black Sea. Yet this humble object is my most prized treasure, because it was enchanted many years ago with a most desirable power. Whosoever bloweth their breath into the cup, like this," he blew a quick exhalation into the cup, as if he were preparing to polish a glass, "He may then place objects of any size in the goblet, and they will lie concealed."