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The Life and Death of Charlie Swan: a Cutlass Outtake
Charlie Swan tried to live a good life. Some would say he tried and failed. Hell, half the time he would say he failed miserably. Still, he tried.
He tried to be a good husband. When his wife died in childbirth, he tried to be a good father. He knew nothing of raising a daughter, however, and early on determined his sister, Helen, would be a better influence on his Bella.
Coin was hard to come by, his lack of breeding and education limiting him to low-paying positions of little esteem. So, feeling he had no other option, he left Bella in Helen's capable hands and returned to the life of a pirate – to the Black Arrow – and sent whatever he could to support his family. Any extra he saved not for himself – not for indulgences like rum and whores – but with the hope that one day he would be able to return to Boston and give his daughter the life she deserved.
When Helen died of the influenza, he knew he could no longer wait. He'd taken what coin he had accumulated and returned to Bella.
She'd been hesitant at first, not really knowing him, having only seen him for a few scattered weeks here and there during her fourteen years. It took some time for them to learn to be father and daughter again.
But they had. It had taken two years, but they had.
Charlie smiled, thinking of her. She was everything to him, and he would – and did – do anything for her. In return, she smiled with pride as they strolled along the harbor, Charlie pointing out features on the ships and sharing tall tales of his adventures.
They were all lies, of course. Bella knew nothing of Charlie's life aboard the Arrow. She believed he'd served in His Majesty's Navy, an officer of some regard. He hated the fact he had to lie to her, but he saw no alternative.
But now. Now he had the opportunity to make up for all of his lies, all of his shortcomings. If things worked out as he hoped, he could give Bella everything that she deserved, the kind of life he'd never had.
He gripped the handle of his cane as he strolled purposefully along the Charles River, the occasional lamplight from a window doing little to cut the murky darkness. He didn't require the cane to walk, of course, but it concealed a blade he hoped he wouldn't need. The same could be said for the pair of flintlocks beneath his coat.
One could never be too careful, however.
It was fortune, really, that led him on this path. He'd thought to leave behind all memories of the Arrow and everything they entailed, including talk of Mellick's Gold. He and young Edward Cullen had spent many a night watch in dreamy conversation about what they would do if they found the treasure. Charlie had spoken of returning home to his daughter, outfitting her in fine silks and satins – enabling her to find a husband of worth and elevate her status to one deserving of her.
Edward, however, spoke more of attaining the treasure, and less of putting it to use. Instead, he would get a far-off look and say simply that he would help his family. Nothing more. Charlie would just shrug and change the subject, figuring a man was sometimes best left to his own thoughts.
So yes, he'd thought he'd left such fancy behind when he left the ship, turning his attention to establishing a small import and export business. He'd intended to deal with only legitimate sources but soon found that his past seemed to follow him, despite his best intentions. Men he'd known in his former life tracked him down, offering significant reward in return for trading in more illicit merchandise.
He refused for a long time, but eventually the temptation became too great, and Charlie succumbed to it, ignoring his guilt with the promise that he could better provide for Bella.
It was always about Bella.
And it was one of those men – one of those ties to his former life – that had brought word to him of a prize he'd spoken of only in hushed whispers, crossing open palms with coin in the dark of night. It was a sword he sought, he'd say, a weapon he'd like to add to his collection. No, it was of no real value, simply of interest as an historical piece. A diversion, nothing more.
At least that's what he'd told them.
In truth, he never thought the cutlass would be found. When he received word of its possible location, it reignited the fancies of the man who'd sat on the deck of the Black Arrow dreaming of treasure.
He found he couldn't resist going after it, for if he found Mellick's gold, it would solve all of his problems.
Charlie neared his destination, a tavern along the bank of the river, loud with boisterous music and laughter. He entered, wishing he could take off his coat in the warm interior, but daring not lest he reveal his pistols. Instead, he bore the heat, walking quickly through to a curtained area in the back. A dark-haired man, scarred from many battles, whirled at his arrival, his hand going to the sword buckled at his hip.
"It's only me," Charlie said, holding his hands up in innocence. The man relaxed, gesturing to a table and chairs next to him. Charlie took a seat.
"Do you have it?" he asked.
The man nodded. "It was where you said, packed in amongst the books and bed linens." Charlie had been surprised to learn that a good portion of Mellick's possessions has been purchased by an investor in Boston, a man who, apparently, had little time to spend investigating them thoroughly – and no idea of the value of the cutlass.
He also refused to sell it – or any of Mellick's things. So Charlie had been forced to utilize other, less savory options.
He couldn't steal it himself, of course. Charlie Swan, Respectable Businessman, couldn't risk such a thing. He could, however, hire someone who had no concerns about reputation or social standing.
"Where is it?" Charlie asked.
The man studied him with a dark look, then retrieved the cloth-wrapped sword from a shelf behind him and handed it over. Charlie's heartbeat quickened as he took the cutlass, unwrapping it with trembling fingers. At first glance, he knew it was what he was looking for, the image in Edward's journal come to life before his eyes.
"There's the matter of my payment," the man began, but Charlie just waved him off, tossing over a pouch of coins without taking his eyes from the cutlass. The man pocketed the coins, leaving without another word.
Charlie quickly re-wrapped the sword, shoving it under his coat before heading out into the night.
~0~
He couldn't sleep.
Charlie had returned home, carefully hiding the cutlass away in the back of a cherry wood cupboard before taking to his bed. He'd stopped by Bella's room, as he often did before retiring, smiling at the sight of her sleeping peacefully amidst the duvet and pillows.
But when he slipped between his own sheets, sleep eluded him, his mind spinning with thoughts of the treasure, and of what he'd do next. He would send word to Edward, of course. It was only honorable that he share his good fortune with the man who'd set him on this path in the first place.
Not to mention the fact that Edward had the journal. If Charlie had any hope of finding the gold, he would need to work with Edward.
It would take some doing to contact his old friend, who since he'd left had become captain of the Arrow upon Iron Sam's death. He could only hope that some of the contacts known to communicate with the ship during his time on board were still able to reach it.
With a resigned sigh, Charlie threw back the sheets, stopping in the kitchen for a cup of milk before heading to his library. Settling the lantern on his desk, he let his gaze roam the bookshelves lining the walls. Perhaps reading might soothe him enough to enable rest.
His eyes darted to the cherry wood cupboard. He didn't know who he thought he was fooling with such thoughts. Charlie smiled wryly, retrieving the cutlass from its hiding place. He took a seat at his desk, removing the cloth wrapping and exploring the sword in depth.
It looked like nothing special, the sheath unadorned, the blade sharp and curved, the only nod to extravagance in the decorative carving on the knuckle guard and the sapphire embedded in the hilt.
Charlie brought the lantern closer, examining the engraving around the gem.
Dixitque Deus fiat lux et facta est lux.
And God said, "Let there be light, and there was light."
Charlie frowned, pondering the significance of the Scripture. He'd seen it before, of course, when Edward had shown him the sketch in the journal. He'd had no idea either, however, what exactly it meant – if anything.
He rubbed his thumb over the sapphire, frowning when he noticed it seemed a bit off-kilter, almost as if…
He lifted the cutlass so the gem was eye level. Indeed, it sat at a slight angle, not apparent without close scrutiny. He pressed the sapphire and it wiggled slightly, but he could not seat it fully in its setting – like something had been caught underneath.
Charlie reached into his drawer for a letter opener, slipping it into the gap and prizing gently at it – then a bit more forcefully. With a pop, the gem flew across the room, bouncing lightly on the thick carpeting. Something else fell out as well, dropping to the floor at his feet.
"What the hell?" he murmured, bending to search for it under the desk. He caught a glint of metal near the leg of his chair and picked it up, excitement beginning to well in his chest. The silver disk felt cool in his palm, and he frowned as he tried to determine what exactly it was – and why it was hidden under the jewel in the cutlass.
It was misshapen, edges either worn or cut into haphazard angles, with a large hole near the center and a smaller one toward one edge. He flipped it over a few times, leaning toward the lantern to try and see more clearly. He could just make out a design on one side – the faded outline of a shield.
"Bloody hell," he murmured.
It was a coin. The coin if he was not mistaken. Apparently, by appropriating one of Mellick's relics, he'd inadvertently obtained two.
Edward would be amazed. They still had a difficult road ahead – a search for the cup and the key, as well as a map mentioned in the journal – but this... This was more than he'd hoped for.
Charlie needed to be careful, though. If Aro got word of his discovery, he had no doubt the pirate would come looking for the cutlass. And if he were to get his hands on the coin as well?
No, Charlie couldn't let that happen.
He set the coin on his desk and rose to retrieve the sapphire from across the room. Carefully, he placed it back in its setting, a bit surprised when it snapped in with an easy press of his fingers. He wrapped the cutlass back in his fabric, replacing it in the cupboard and arranging several stacks of books in front of it before closing the doors.
Pensive, he picked up the coin, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. It wouldn't do to hide the coin near the cutlass. He pondered keeping it in his pocket but worried that might not be the best option either. Doubtless, if Aro found him, a search of his person would be the scoundrel's first order of business.
No, he'd have to think of the right hiding place. Somewhere he could keep an eye on it, but that Aro would never think to look.
Charlie yawned, the night's excitement catching up with him suddenly. He placed the coin under a candlestick in the hallway, determined to come up with a better plan in the morning.
~0~
"Papa?" Bella strolled into the library the next afternoon, jolting her father from his thoughts. "Are you all right? You seem distracted."
As often happened recently, Charlie was stunned for a moment by the girl – no, young woman – standing before him. In many ways she was the spitting image of her mother, petite but far from delicate, her dark eyes mirroring his late wife's so closely. Her smile, though. That was his. He'd been told often enough by anyone who'd seen the two of them together.
He gave her one of those smiles now, waving her in. "Oh, I'm fine, fine. Just business, my dear. Nothing you need be concerned about."
Bella crossed to the desk, perching on the edge. "You work too hard," she scolded, reaching for his hand. "You need to relax more. I've heard there's to be a ball at the Chesterfields' next week, and the Widow Hargrove will be attending with her niece."
Charlie rolled his eyes. Bella was forever endeavoring to get him remarried. He had no interest, though, in such a thing. Not that he was lacking female companionship. He just chose relationships that were a bit more unfettered in nature.
"Why are you always trying to marry me off?" he asked with a laugh. "Isn't that supposed to be my job? How is the young Mr. Woodward, by the way?"
Bella snorted. "Alistair has apparently turned his attentions elsewhere," she said. "Which is just as well, because I didn't really care for him anyway. He always smelled faintly of fish." Her nose wrinkled.
"His family owns a reputable fishing fleet. It's hardly his fault," Charlie admonished her without any real heat. He hadn't really cared for Woodward either. Of course, no man would be good enough for his Bella.
He hesitated briefly, then reached into his desk drawer. "I have something for you," he said, pulling out the coin. He had fitted it with a silver chain and now held it out to his daughter, the disk spinning slightly and reflecting the light.
She smiled, lifting the coin in her fingers, the chain dangling. "What is it?" she asked.
Charlie wasn't certain he was doing the right thing in giving the coin to Bella for safekeeping. He had tried all her life to keep her away from the more nefarious aspects of his profession. Yet this was for her – it was all for her – and if something were to happen to him, at least she would have the coin. He would get word to Edward to find her, just in case.
"Papa?"
Charlie shook his head and smiled, taking the necklace and sliding the chain over Bella's head. "It's a good luck charm," he said. "I acquired it during my travels and thought I would pass it along to you. Perhaps it will assist in the arduous task of finding you a husband." He winked, and Bella shrieked in mock outrage, slapping his arm with a laugh.
"Perhaps you should wear it, then," she retorted, lifting the coin and rubbing it between her fingers.
"See the hole?" Charlie said, ignoring her jibe. "It was made by a dagger aimed at the heart of a British cavalry officer. Saved his life, that."
Bella smirked. "You don't say."
Charlie shrugged. "Could be. I've also heard if you slide a strand of your hair through the hole, you will become wealthy beyond measure."
"I will have to try that."
Charlie reached for his daughter's hand. "All I ask is that you keep it with you always, close to your heart."
Bella stilled, her smile falling slightly at his serious expression. "Papa? What is it?"
"It's nothing. Just…promise me, will you? It would mean a lot to me." He held her gaze for a long moment, willing her to feel the importance of what he was asking of her. Hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions.
She nodded slowly. "All right, Papa. I promise." She slipped the coin inside her bodice then leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I'll never take it off. Thank you."
Charlie closed his eyes, exhaling quietly in relief. "You're welcome." He smiled as she pulled back and patted her hand. "Now, I think this calls for a celebration. I've asked Mrs. Hennessey to prepare something special for supper."
"Celebration?"
He winked. "Well, yes, of this fortune you're to obtain after you use the charm."
Bella giggled, linking her arm with his as they headed out of the library. "Shouldn't we wait until I actually gain this wealth before we celebrate?"
"Well, there's no guarantee how quickly you'll become rich. And I feel like celebrating tonight."
They laughed together as they entered the dining room, and Charlie regaled her with another tale of how the coin came to have a hole in it. Bella indulged him, as usual, but kept to her promise. Over the coming weeks, Charlie always saw the chain around her neck, though the coin remained hidden beneath her clothes.
She came across the cutlass one afternoon while searching for a favorite book. Charlie had stopped in the doorway when he saw her before the open cupboard doors, the cutlass in her hands.
"What's this?" she asked when she spotted him.
Charlie swallowed, forcing a casual air as he made his way toward her.
"Oh, it was a gift from Commodore Perry," he said. "He presented it to me when I left the ship."
"Really?" she said, pulling the cutlass from his wrapping. "A strange choice for a reward, isn't it?"
Charlie shrugged. "Just something liberated from one of the pirate ships we boarded. A gesture really, nothing more." He took it from her, unable to hide his smile of pride at possessing the cutlass. Bella, of course, mistook his meaning, thinking his smile came from receiving such recognition from a superior officer.
"And this?" she asked when she spotted the engraving around the sapphire. "You know my Latin is sadly lacking."
Charlie laughed. "It's the Bible, and obviously I need to spend more time invested in your education," he teased. "The Book of Genesis, Chapter 1, Verse 3: And God said, 'Let there be light, and there was light.'"
Bella hummed thoughtfully. "Odd thing to be engraved on a sword, don't you think?" When Charlie didn't respond, she looked up. "Why do you keep it locked away? We could clear a shelf-"
"No." At Bella's surprised look, he added, "I prefer to keep remembrances of my time at sea out of sight. Not all memories are pleasant ones."
Bella still looked a bit confused, but she nodded, wrapping the sword and replacing it in the cupboard. "As you wish," she said. "But know that regardless of what you had to do in the Navy, I am very proud of you." She passed him on her way to the doorway, popping up on her toes to kiss his cheek before leaving the room.
Charlie collapsed into his desk chair, the guilt of his lies weighing heavily on his shoulders. It was only the hope that, in the end, the reward would be worth all of his deception, that kept him going.
He stood and crossed to the window, looking out on the view of the harbor between the two buildings across the street. Charlie still had yet to send word to Edward. He'd been sailing the islands south of Florida, and Charlie couldn't risk relaying the message through numerous hands. He'd received word the Arrow had been spotted heading north, however, so it would be soon – perhaps a day or two – when he'd get the opportunity to share his news with the good captain.
Perhaps Edward had had some luck as well. He could only hope.
~0~
That night, Charlie was awakened by a thud downstairs. He'd always been a light sleeper – even more so after his time at sea, and he rose quickly, following the sound. He stopped briefly by Bella's room, but she still slept soundly, and he closed the door, hoping not to disturb her. The house was quiet, so perhaps he'd imagined the noise – or it could have simply been a stray cat hunting mice under the front porch again.
He padded down the stairs, pausing as he heard a rustling sound, then another thud coming from the library. His eyes darted about, searching for something to use as a weapon, his pistols locked away in the bottom drawer of his desk.
His cane sat propped near the front door, and he crossed to it quickly, gripping it in his fist as he tiptoed toward the library. With a quiet swish, he slid the blade from its sheath, pressing his back against the wall next to the doorway. He took a deep breath and peeked around the corner, his heart pounding as he spotted a man rifling through his bookshelves, pulling books down by the handful and letting them drop to the floor.
He recognized that back – the tangled black hair and familiar black coat.
Aro.
Aro the Merciless.
In his bloody house.
Charlie slipped into the room, dagger poised before him as he made his way toward the man. He quickly scanned the dark corners, relieved that Aro appeared to be alone.
He hoped so, at least. Hoped that the men he'd undoubtedly brought with him were outside and not searching the rest of the house.
Bella.
Fear gripped his heart, causing him to stumble slightly over one of the discarded books. Aro whirled around, and Charlie charged toward him, thrusting his blade toward the man's stomach.
Aro grunted, barely managing to spin away to avoid the blow, the blade creasing the side of his coat, but falling short of piercing flesh. Charlie rounded for another attack, but Aro was quick, punching him twice in the face before he could recover. Charlie staggered, shaking his head to clear it and rushing blindly toward him again – fear and desperation pushing him forward. His dagger caught flesh in Aro's arm, and the man hissed in pain, shoving him aside and kicking him in the stomach.
Charlie fell against the desk, the dagger slipping from his fingers. Aro tackled him before he could retrieve it, the men falling to the floor in a blur of punches accented by muffled grunts. They rolled across the carpet, and Charlie spotted the dagger, reaching out for it – stretching – his fingers barely brushing the cool metal.
A click caused him to freeze in place, his arm still outstretched. Slowly, he turned his head, only to feel the cold barrel of Aro's flintlock pressed against his temple.
"Well, well, Charlie Swan," he hissed, spitting blood onto the carpet, his face mere inches from Charlie's. "It appears you still have a bit of fight left in you after all."
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want," Aro spat. "Now, I'm going to get up and you're going to stay right there. Unless you want my boys to pay a little visit to that pretty girl you have upstairs."
Charlie stiffened. Aro grinned.
"Aye, I've seen the lass," he whispered. "'Twould be a shame if any harm were to befall such an innocent girl, don't you agree?"
"You touch her and I'll-"
"You'll what, Charlie? Kill me? Seems like a lot of trouble, seeing as you could avoid it all in the first place by just giving me what. I. Want." He accented his words with light taps of the pistol on Charlie's temple. Charlie swallowed thickly but said nothing more, fear for his daughter paralyzing him.
"Good man," Aro said, standing up slowly, the flintlock remaining pointed in his direction. He took a deep breath, wiping a bit of blood from his lip and spitting again. Charlie eased to a sitting position, leaning back against the desk.
"Now," Aro said. "Where is the cutlass?"
"I don't know-"
"I know you have it!" Aro snapped. "Do you think the man you hired is a paragon of discretion? The man speaks freely when plied with ale, and once I got word, it took but a few well-placed coins for him to tell me everything."
Aro sneered. "Of course, he didn't mention the gold, but I am an intelligent man, Charlie. A friend of One-Eyed Eddie searching for a particular sword? And what should I find when I investigate the man who had that sword, but that it was obtained from the estate of one Simon Mellick?
"I'll ask you one more time," he said, "and don't try my patience or the girl is dead.
"Where is the cutlass?"
Charlie paled, all hope leaving him in that moment. He had no choice.
"In the cupboard," he muttered.
"Excellent," Aro said with an approving nod. "I'll thank you to retrieve it for me." He motioned with the flintlock. "Quickly, now."
Charlie pulled himself to his feet and limped toward the cupboard. He opened it and reached toward the back, pulling out the cutlass before he turned back to Aro.
"On the desk," he ordered, "then take a seat over there."
Charlie did as instructed, laying the sword on his desk and stepping over the mess of papers and books to sit in the chair near the window. The dagger lay on the floor just out of his reach.
Aro pulled back the cloth wrapping, smiling at what he saw there.
He quickly wrapped it back up, tucking it under his arm. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Charlie. It's been too long, really," he said with a tip of his hat. "I'll be off, but don't be trying to follow me, all right? I'd hate to have to come back."
He backed toward the door, turning at the last moment. Charlie watched him, seeing all his hope for a better future – of a life of repute for his daughter – leaving with him. Charlie would continue to try and eke out a living, but he had begun to realize that without the treasure, he had two choices: an honorable life of near-poverty, or building a business with the criminals he'd come to know during his life as a pirate, a business that would have him forever looking over his shoulder.
And lying to Bella.
With a surge of desperation, he dove for the dagger and sprang to his feet, lunging toward Aro.
He was too slow.
Aro spun on his heel, firing his pistol before Charlie got two steps. Charlie stumbled, dropping the dagger, his hands moving to clutch at his stomach.
It hurt. What had happened?
He looked down, stunned by the red oozing between his fingers, and dropped to his knees.
"It's a pity, Charlie," Aro said, sliding his flintlock back into his belt. "You really were a decent man, and killing decent men does ruin my day." He stepped back into the room, looming over him – how had Charlie ended up on his back? He didn't remember falling – and shook his head regretfully.
"Damned shame, really," he said before turning to leave the room, the front door closing quietly behind him.
"Bella-" Charlie whispered.
As if she heard him, his daughter rushed into the room a moment later. "Papa? I thought I heard-" She gasped, spotting him on the floor. "Papa!"
Charlie tried to speak, but something filled his mouth, thick and salty. He was finding it more difficult to breathe. Bella rushed to his side, pulling his head into her lap.
"Papa? What happened? No…no…" She stroked his head, her fingers smeared with blood. "I should get a doctor-" She started to get up, but Charlie managed to raise his hand and grab her wrist, gasping through the blood in his mouth.
"No, Papa," she sobbed. "No, please…no…"
Charlie felt lightheaded, a quiet numbness replacing the pain. It was quite pleasant, actually, except for his inability to breathe. He realized, finally, that he was about to die.
"No…Papa…"
It was all right, actually. It didn't hurt so much. If not for Bella – poor Bella, left alone. He had some money set aside, and the house would be hers. She would survive, but survival wasn't enough, was it?
"Don't leave me…"
No, his Bella was still so young, and without a husband to care for her – to protect her – she'd be vulnerable in this horrible world. And if Aro decided to come back for her…
He struggled, limbs flailing at the thought.
"It's all right, Papa." More sobs.
If only he'd sent word to Edward. The young captain was a criminal, but an honorable one, at least in Charlie's view. He would watch out for his daughter. Perhaps…
Perhaps if Bella knew she could go to him for help.
He looked up at his daughter, and it seemed as if she were floating away from him down a long tunnel. He reached out, surprised when he actually touched her face. With extraordinary effort, he pushed the blood from his mouth, desperate to tell her to find Edward Cullen.
Tell him what happened. He'll keep you safe from Aro. It will be all right. Just find Edward Cullen.
But as his body fought his efforts, he managed to force out only one word.
"Cullen."
He gasped, choking on blood, all the rest left unsaid.
Yes, Charlie Swan tried to live a good life.
But in those last moments when his daughter sat huddled weeping over his bleeding body, he had no more chances to try.
He could only hope that what he'd done was enough.