At World's Beginning

The Mariner's Lament

Then

It was her screams that caused him to bolt upright, nearly spilling from his hammock on the rough journey from deep sleep to fast awakening.

Franklin leapt from his sleeping rung, pulled on his boots, and dashed up to the deck. That's where the screams had come from, he was sure of it, and he was proved correct as he came to a sudden halt, shocked by what he saw.

Rochester, Mako, and several other crewmembers held Ona against the mainmast, swords pointed at her throat. Other men had pulled the longboat onto the deck and were piling spare pieces of wood into it.

Franklin couldn't fathom the scene, his senses temporarily fled, but they returned at the sight of the captain standing nearby. His relief at seeing the man was replaced by a sense of foreboding when he realized Ulysses was watching and doing nothing to put a stop to it.

"What's the meaning of this, sir?" Franklin spoke in alarm, his gaze flitting between Ona and Ulysses. Ona looked frightened. He'd never seen Ona look frightened before. Not like this. And it chilled him to the bone.

Ulysses glared at him with an expression as cold as ice, which chilled him further.

"I'm executing my duties as master of this ship," Ulysses said, holding his hands behind his back as he watched the proceedings. "And as second mate, you will see those duties carried out, to the letter."

"And what duties would those be?" he inquired with a sharpness that gave credit to his name. Ulysses turned his gaze on him, that cold look never leaving his face.

"To see that this unnatural, ungodly creature be put to death, of course."

Franklin was stunned, almost too stunned to speak.

"What?"

Ulysses cleared his throat and clarified, "She is a sea-witch. A water nymph. A siren of the sea, responsible for the deaths of hundreds of good men, no doubt."

"What evidence do you have of this?" Franklin demanded. He tried not to look in Ona's direction, knowing if he did, he might lose his composure and just start cutting through the men like wheat in a field.

He had never been so incensed in his life, but he had to keep his calm and talk the captain down from this foolish, dangerous behavior. It was Ona's only chance of survival.

"Robert told me an interesting tale. One in which you conspired with the sea-witch in order to avail us of our route to Nassau."

Franklin's mouth went as dry as a desert.

"Do you deny the charges?" Ulysses asked as he turned a cold eye onto his second mate.

Do I deny the charges? Arrogant, pig-headed man. How could he stand there in judgement when Franklin knew for a fact the man was no more righteous than he was? Less so, if the rumors about the living cargo he had once carried were true.

"Am I on trial as well, then?" Franklin asked just as coolly as he glared up at his captain. A man he had trusted, once.

"That all depends on you," Ulysses responded, turning his head and nodding down at the scene below. "Are you willing to light the torch and put an end to the unholy creature yourself?"

Franklin followed his gaze... and finally realized what the crew were doing. They were piling wood into the longboat so they could build a funeral pyre. And burn Ona atop it.

"You're mad," Franklin said in a breathless whisper. "You're barking mad."

Ulysses sighed and looked down at his feet.