Honour Bright

I prefer to think of it as sienna and taupe.

The morning sun streamed in through the gallery windows and shone down on the newlyweds as they lay sleeping. Jack's eyes opened as he abruptly woke up to the feel of his ship starting to roll through the water. He gently tried to extract himself from Honour as she lay with her head on his chest and her arms around him. She stirred in her half-sleep. "Mmmm....where are you going?" He eased himself out of bed and looked out the window. "It appears we are leaving port and without my direction. I guess Briggs thought I could use the rest. But it's bad form for the captain to be sleeping in when everyone else is heaving to. It wouldn't do for them to think I am a slacker." Honour laughed lightly as she pulled the blanket up to her chin and rolled over. "Slacker? You? I've never known a man who could be so....energetic...on only a few hours sleep." He grinned and crawled across the bed, yanking the blanket away from her. "Jack!" she squealed. She tried to grab it back but Jack had already taken it and threw it over his shoulder. "Now, Mrs. Wolfe, I think we should----" "Jack? You up yet?" Briggs' voice came from the other side of the door. "That's a loaded question, " he whispered to Honour. She started to giggle but he put his finger to her lips. "Shh! Maybe he will go away and---" "Captain Wolfe. This is your quartermaster. You remember me? Josiah 'I can't believe Jack isn't up here' Briggs? I know you are awake. I hear you moving around in there." Jack sighed and affected a yawning voice. "Wh--what time is it, Josiah?" "Time to get yer arse up on the deck. The sun has been up for a good half hour and we are clearing the port. So I suggest you put on some trousers and get up here." He turned to Honour and sighed. "Duty calls. Keep the bed warm." She propped herself up on her elbow. "I'd really like to see the ship, Jack. I can't spend all my time in the cabin. What will the crew think?" "That I am a very fortunate man." She pushed him away as he leaned in again to kiss her. "No. You go up on deck. I'll get dressed and join you in about a half hour." He moved off the bed and sighed. "If you insist." He looked back at her once more and sighed. "I insist. Now go!" Jack buttoned his shirt on his way up to the quarterdeck. Briggs was already conferring with the helmsman and pointing to a spot on the map. "Good morning, Josiah.....Mr. Carlisle." He helped himself to a cup of coffee and reached in the binnacle for a splash of rum. Briggs frowned, "About time ye got yer arse up here. Is it going to be like this for the next few days?" Jack laughed and took a deep drink of the coffee. "Probably. You didn't object when Sally or Marcy or Polly and Molly were on the ship." Briggs glared, "The ship weren't moving then! Now how am I going to confer with you? Slip notes under the door and hope you see them by noon?" Jack shrugged. "Josiah, you overreact. Things will settle down soon enough. And when we get to Castara, I'll ensconce my lovely wife in the bridal suite of Le Loup." Briggs snorted, "I don't know if you have been in the sun too long, the rum has addled your brain or you just plain lost your mind. You plan on taking that young girl to THERE?" "Sure, why not?" "Because the proprietress will eat her for breakfast, that's why." Just then Honour showed up on deck. "May I come up?" She was dressed simply in a white silk blouse that kept slipping off her shoulder and a black pair of linen breeches tucked in high boots. Her hair was caught back in a black velvet ribbon. "Ah, there you are!" Jack took her hand and led her up the stairs. "Mr. Briggs. You do remember my glowing bride, don't you?" Briggs looked up briefly from his map. "That I do. Good morning, ma'am." Jack turned his attention to his wife. "You found everything? The soap? The towels? The tub?" She laughed. "Jack, the tub is kind of hard to miss. But I did find some rather interesting reading material. Something called the....Kama Sutra?" Jack spewed his coffee and Briggs' shoulders began to shake with laughter as he bent over the map again. "Didn't know ye needed an instruction manual, Jack!" Jack glared at him. "You can be replaced, Briggs." He turned to Honour again. "It came with the ship. I used it to prop up the leg of the bed before I got it fixed. But now, don't you look lovely!" She twirled around and brought out a black cavalier hat. "Can I have this one, Jack? I have nothing piratey. And when we stop in port, I can buy some feathers. Oh, do say I can have it!" He kissed her and said, "Then it is yours." Briggs turned to Carlisle and made a gagging motion with his finger. Carlisle spewed coffee on the map. "Did something go down the wrong pipe, Carlisle?" The helmsman coughed. "No, just something I had a hard time swallowing."

Honour took one last look around the room. She had buried the two duffel bags deep in the bottom of one trunk and covered it with a black velvet cloak. Lucas came to the room and said, "Amos said ye be leavin' us, little lassie. I shall sorely miss ye." She gave him a hug and said, "As I shall miss you, Lucas. But you never know what happens in this life. You never know where life will take you if you don't take chances. And working in this establishment dealing cards, I learned you have to know when to take a chance and lay your money down. Because the turn of the card can mean a fortune lost or found. Even in matters of the heart. " He grinned and said, " 'eard ye bagged a big one, Missy. Ye be Mrs. Captain Jack Wolfe, ye be!" She laughed and said, "Honour Wolfe. Now there is a name with a certain panache!" She looked under the bed one last time and pulled out a pair of boots. 'Wonder who they belong to?' She shrugged and handed them to Lucas. "Here, Lucas. Wear them in good health!" She walked downstairs and Amos stood there with a woebegone look on his face. He faltered a bit as he said, "I am going to be missing you, Honour. A lot of good times here." She gave him a hug and said, "Don't look so sad, Amos. I shall be back to work before too long. We may even someday buy a sugar plantation here." "To raise little pirates?" "Perish the thought, Amos! Perish the thought! But one more friend I need to take with me. He is the real reason I came back." Amos reached behind the bar and pressed something into her hand. "What's this?" "That, little puss, is the fifty-pound note that your husband---Lord, I choke on that word!--gave to me. I want you to have it." "Amos, no. I couldn't----" He interrupted her. "You keep that money and you keep it hidden. If you ever get stranded somewhere, I want you to take that money and get passage back here to us." She looked down at the note. "Amos, that isn't---" "Yes, it is. It will give me peace of mind knowing that you can at least come back here to your family." Honour felt her eyes fill with tears. Whether it was the touching gesture of Amos or the enormity of what she did, she felt like she was going to cry at any minute. Amos cleared his throat. "Now you just consider it a little wedding present from me. Something you can use in the future if you need it. Like an annulment." Honour threw her arms around Amos' neck and whispered, "Have I ever told you how much you mean to me, Amos? All of you?" He disentangled her from his neck and said softly, "As we feel the same, darlin'. You keep yourself safe and keep your wits about you. And you save that money." She tucked the note in what she considered the safest bank in the world. "I'll be leaving now. If I see Kate, I just know I will be weeping." "You taking the pooch, I assume?" She smiled through her tears, "Yes. Can you imagine me without Muir? Or him without me?" She went to the stable and whistled low. Her best friend came bounding out the door. "Muir! You know I couldn't leave you behind!" The wolf-dog that had been her constant companion jumped on her, running around her in circles. "Are you ready for an adventure?" He barked in affirmation. She scratched him behind his ears. "It's a big ship. Just as big as..." Her voice trailed off as she looked to the harbour. She just couldn't quite bring herself to say the words that always stuck in her throat. Neptune Rising. Honour shook her head as if to clear the thought away. She had been so--occupied--that she had pushed the memory of Rhys Morgan down into her heart. But seeing Muir excited about a sailing adventure brought back the memory of a dream unfulfilled. She straightened up and said with determination, "Then let's get going! I'll introduce you to Jack. And you had better be on your best behaviour or I shall leave you with Amos. Not that you would mind. He spoils you rotten anyway." She opened the door and headed back to the ship. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kate came into the tavern and sighed. "Don't you be giving me that sad-eyed look, Missy." She put her tray down. "I won't. But it won't be the same without Honour here. But it is good she is leaving now and under the protection of Captain Wolfe. Guess who just pulled into port?" "You're kidding, right?" "No. You can't mistake that golden masthead. I imagine his crew and himself will be in here before nightfall. And she's gone back to Wales. Right, Amos?" He nodded. "Never to be seen again. At least that is the story for him." "Think she is happy, Amos?" He shrugged. "For the moment. She's got that glow---you know---it's good for the circulation." Kate laughed and Amos said hotly, "I've been around, you know!" He continued to wipe the tavern counter with his towel. "I took a bit of insurance, you know." "How so?" "I gave her Wolfe's fifty-pound note for passage back." "Amos!" He looked serious. "There are stories about Wolfe. Short attention span. And then it is on to the next." "But I don't think he has ever been married before?" "So?" "So he won't leave her stranded." Amos put his hands on the bar. "What makes you so sure?" "He loves her?" Amos broke out in bitter laughter. "More like she is an amusing plaything for the moment. A munequita. But I took measures to bring her back. Let's hope she comes back the way she left us." "What do you mean?" Amos put his hands on the bar. "Let's hope she doesn't come back standing behind a wee bairn." Kate looked at him with understanding. "And if she is?" Amos replied with determination, "I'll marry her myself." Kate sighed. "Let's hope it never comes to that. Because hope is about all we can give her."

"Were you going to try to sneak away without saying goodbye to me?" Honour turned around. "Kate!" "Amos told me." Honour sighed. "I wanted to tell you myself." Kate crossed her arms. "Well?" "Well...what?" Kate leaned forward. "How is he?" "He's fine." "You know what I mean." "Kate! Do you expect me to kiss and tell?" "Yes. I do. You never held back before. You know....girl talk." "This is different." Kate brushed back Honour's hair and grinned. "He's a biter, I see. "More of a nibbler." "Better not let Amos see those suckerbites on your neck then. You know how protective he is of us." Honour opened up the armoire and began pulling out dresses. "I just couldn't see leaving them behind. Some of them were really quite pricey." Kate sat on the bed. "Do you think you will have occasion to wear them? After all, you will be on a ship." "We have to make port sometime. And I want to look my best. Do you want this lavender one?" Kate took it. "You know I do. I always liked it." Honour bent over and started flinging boots out. "Well, there are enough boots here to make a cobbler weep with joy." She began folding the dresses up and putting them in trunks. Kate looked over. "What have we here?" She picked up the remnants of her lacings. "And this too?" Kate held up the chemise with the drawstring out. "Oooh, here it is. The drawstring. With teeth marks on it. What the heck was going on here anyways?" Honour snatched it away from Kate. "Just....alright! So he is a very impatient person!" Kate laughed. "It sounds like it. And no one had seen you in three days but Malcolm heard your voice when he was in the hallway. You didn't know it but he put a piece of paper in the doorjamb to see when it would fall out." "He didn't!" "Yes, he did. He wanted to see how long before you surfaced." Honour felt her face get red. "What do you expect? It was my wedding night." "Nights. More than one." Honour giggled. "Alright so we celebrated a bit longer than necessary. But we are going to Tobago for our honeymoon and then we will be back." Kate looked out the casement window. "It's best you are leaving now." "What?" "Look." Honour joined Kate at the bedroom window. "Is---is that who I think it is?" Kate nodded. "The Golden Phoenix just pulled into port. And Captain Jonas Corwin will be coming into the town before the night falls." Honour hastily threw her clothes into a trunk with speed. Her face was pale. Kate said softly, "You are safe, sweetheart. After all, you married Mad Jack Wolfe." "You know of him?" "Honour, every tavern wench in St. Lawrence knows the tales. And you will be out of St. Lawrence by the time the sun reaches noon. I'll keep an eye on things and if Corwin starts asking questions, we will spread the rumour that you married a Spaniard and are now living in Cadiz. That should keep him at bay." Honour hugged Kate. "Thank you, Kate." "'Thank you for...what?" "For everything. If it wasn't for you, I would be dead by that bastard's sword." Kate hugged her back. "You would have done the same for me. Keep in touch and visit often. And give that big quartermaster a nice warm kiss from me!" Honour laughed. "I think he would rather get those regards from you." Kate put her hand on the doorknob and said over her shoulder, "Find out if the Mother Superior story really did involve a whip, three monkeys and a piece of fruit." Honour said, "Wait...what?" as Kate closed the door. Suddenly the door opened again and Kate pointed to the curtain rod. "You may want to take your pantalets down from there," and closed the door.

"Hello, Amos!" He looked up. "Well, look what the cat dragged in." She poured herself an ale. Amos snatched it out of her hand and replaced it with a glass of milk. "Hey!" "I still think you are too young to drink that stuff. And if you are a good little girl, I'll let you have a chocolate torte." "Alright. That's better. I'm sorry I didn't come in this morning but I have a good reason." Amos crossed his arms. "I'd love to hear YOUR side of the story. I already got a note he sent down." "What do you mean?" "How do you think that plate of fruit and cheese got to your room? You think the fruit fairy brought it?" "Well...." "Well nothing! He stopped Malcolm in the hall requesting a light repast. Mal peeked in and you were sound asleep." "Now, wasn't that thoughtful of Jack...." "He sent a note down telling me you were occupied and with it was a fifty-pound note to cover any 'inconvenience and loss of revenue' by your being 'indisposed.' So when does he ship out so we can get back to what passes for normal around here?" "Well, that may be a problem..." "What do you mean, 'a problem'? He's not leaving by the end of the week?" She held up her hand. "So what am I looking at?" "Oh! We keep doing that. There is supposed to be a ring there." "Come again?" "We kind of got married Saturday night. Well, technically it was Sunday morning. Do you think it is a sin to...you know...on the Sabbath?" Amos sat down with a thud. "I don't believe it." "What, that I got married or that I may have broken some sort of commandment? Would that be one of the ones that Moses forgot to pick up when he smashed the tablets?" He shook his head. "I knew I should have made Kate take that table." She held her finger up. 'You forget--I wasn't serving, I was dealing. And that brute Donovan slapped me." "Do you realize what you have done, MIssy? Who you have married?" "I married Captain Jack Wolfe and----" "No, you married Captain MAD Jack Wolfe. He's not mad as in angry, he's mad as in crazy. It was Honour's turn to be surprised. "You know him?" "Know him? Everyone knows him! He's a legend in the Caribbean. Rumoured to front alot of the smuggling operation and black market trade in these waters from a remote location. Some say St. Maarten, some say Antigua. Trinidad...Tobago..." Honour cupped her chin in her hand. "You don't say. And now I am Mrs. Captain Jack Wolfe. How about that!" Amos' face darkened. "Heard he has his hands in a few sporting houses too." "Amos, you run a sporting house. I was dealing, remember?" "Not that kind of sporting. I'm talking cathouse." Honour looked puzzled. "I don't take Jack for a pet type of person...." Amos exhaled loudly and exploded, "He's a bordello fellow!" Realization came over Honour. "You mean....?" "Yes, I do mean. So you had best get your little rudder back in this tavern, Missy. Just forget about this whole 'till death or whimsy do us part.' She cut herself a piece of the chocolate torte and licked the knife. Amos took it away from her and she made a face at him. "Really, Amos, you think he's going to employ me? I'm his WIFE!" Amos muttered, "Stranger things have happened. I've heard alot of stories." "Well, tell me one." Amos thought and then continued to mop the bar. "Just you never mind there. Before you become a tavern story yourself. But I think you already have. Getting married in less than three hours." Honour picked up her plate and put it in the basin behind the bar. "Please don't worry, Amos. I'll come back to visit regular. When we get back from Tobago. And then I can come back to work. Jack won't mind, I know it. Can I borrow Lucas and Samuel to help me with some of my trunks? I don't want to leave them here." Amos nodded. "Best you pay them a bit extra. I know the size of your chest." Honour stifled a giggle. Amos frowned. "You know what I mean." As Honour turned to walk up the stairs, Amos called out, "Get him to tell you the story of the nuns and the Mother Superior and see how well you sleep at night!"

Honour rolled over and opened her eyes. She hit Jack in the head with a pillow. "You let me sleep most of the morning away! " "You had quite the busy night, darling. And morning, too. I thought you could use your rest." She stood up, dragging the sheet with her. "I've had nothing to eat for almost two days now except a few apples and a handful of grapes." Jack's brow knitted. "Well, that's no good at all! You need to keep your strength up, as do I. Fancy a bite to eat? Even if it means leaving this nice warm bed?" She scrambled on the floor, muttering, "I know they are here...somewhere." He leaned over the side of the bed, a look of bemusement on his face as he admired her form. "What on earth are you looking for?" Her face flamed with embarrassment. "Oh...nothing." Jack held up his finger, her pantalets draped on it. "Is this what you were looking for?" Honour gasped in surprise and grabbed the garment off his finger. "Yes, thank you! Would you afford me a bit of privacy while I put them back on?" "Not a chance, dove," he smiled wickedly. She shrugged, "Then enjoy the show, mate." Jack settled back on the bed, making a small production of fluffing up his pillow before reclining. "You know I will! But I do prefer you with those trappings on the floor where they belong." She threw them in his face. "Fine then. I'll go without. But I need food." He pulled the pantalets off his head and placed them on the bed. "I'm just teasing, darling. My preferences aside, I'd rather not have to get you out of the gaol for public lewdness and indecency. If it will make you feel better, I'll turn my back." "it will make me feel better. Turn your back." As she grabbed them and let the sheet slip, she caught his gaze in the mirror. "You cheated! Well, yeah!" he laughed. "I'm a pirate, remember?" "Put the pillow over your head," demanded Honour as she moved out of range of the mirror's reflection. "And do be quick. I'm hungry!" Jack sighed and picked up the pillow. "As you wish, my dear." She came out of the alcove of her room wearing her chemise. "The drawstring is missing. And the bodice lacings are cut into little pieces. My skirt is ripped. What the hell happened?" "Oh, um, that might have been me," he said sheepishly. "You were hopelessly knotted, and I wasn't in a patient mood..." He held up his shirt, which was torn up the back. "And neither were you, from the look of things." "I think you caught yours on a nail. That's it. You caught it on a nail." She looked at her hands and held them up."Do you honestly think these hands could rip through your shirt?" Jack got out of bed and walked to her. She gave him a wary look as he took her hands in his. "These look like the hands of a woman capable of doing anything she puts her mind to," he said with a gentle smile. Honour found herself blushing again. "You're still naked." Jack looked down. "So I am !" "I'm dressed, after a fashion," she said. "Shouldn't you be, too? My stomach is rumbling like an oncoming storm." "Can we get Amos to send up some stew and bread?" With me looking like this?" she asked. "Whatever will he think?" "That you had one hell of a good night?" Honour frowned and shook her head. "I may as well send you down naked, then." "I like that idea less. Wait! I've got an idea..." Jack picked up his belt and untied a thin leather lanyard from it. "This should work nicely!" "What is that thing?" "New lacing for your bodice, love!" "But, it's too short." "We improvise." "You're mad, you know that?" "Yeah," he grinned. "Ain't it great?" "Would you at least put your pants on?" she said in exasperation. "At least be half dressed and mad." "Oh, fine. Prude." It's just that you are a....umm..uh..." "Distraction?" he replied. Her face turned bright red. He ran his fingers through her golden tresses, and began to pull her into a kiss. "Oh no, you don't!" she protested, her face flaming from embarrassment and a bit of desire. "Clothes, laces, food. In that order. I won't have you undressing me again without a meal." "You drive a hard bargain, love." "And you're a hard man--" Jack's eyebrows went up. "Why, thank you!" "-- TO DEAL WITH!" she yelped, and pushed him away from her. "Just get dressed, damn it!" She opened up an armoire and pulled out a summer frock in sky blue. "This IS my room so I do have clothes here. Forget the bodice." He held up his shirt. "All fine for you. But what about me?" She opened up a drawer and pulled out a man's shirt. "Here. I sleep in this sometimes." He sniffed it. "Smells like scotch. Whose is it?" She grabbed it back. "It's mine. Do you want it or not?" He grabbed it back and pulled it over his head. "It fits. I'll take it. Smells familiar...." Her mind went back to another place and time. She murmured, "What do you expect when you work in a tavern?" No need to mention that the shirt belonged to James Blake. And good whiskey was his vice.

The sun was rising as Honour woke up. She lifted her head from the pillow and groaned. Nothing to eat except a few apples she had in the room and the three bottles of wine Jack had grabbed on their way to her room. Jack heard her stir and woke up. Smiling, he said, "Well, good morning to you too. How did you sleep?" "For only having a few hours of sleep and the headache from the wine you gave me? I've felt better. Do you realize we have stayed inside this room for two days?" Jack laughed, "Time flies when you are having fun, yeah?" She reached out and grabbed her dressing gown.. "Where do you think you are going? Come back here." "I'm getting some water, do you want some?" Jack reached down by the bed and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "I've got what I need right here. Aqua vitae." "Water of life." He grinned. "You know your latin." She shrugged. "I AM educated, you know. And your capacity for alot of things amazes me. Have you always been this insatiable?" "Always." She brushed her hair and looked at her face in the mirror. Was that a blush? Or a glow? She caught Jack gazing at her in the reflection. Turning to him, she said, "Jack, are you going to tell me about those twenty-four chests of guilders?" His mind raced. They had both been pretty well on their way to an alcohol nirvana. How did she remember it? Briggs' words came back to haunt him. "And don't you let some tavern wench get ye to yappin, neither!” He scrambled for coolness. "I think you misunderstood me. The contents of the chests contained various sundry items. Some wine, some spices...a bit of coffee." "But I thought you said 'guilders.'" He shook his head. "No, I said, 'spilled dirt.' Soneone didn't close the lids tightly." He affected a cough. "You know...dust bunnies." She frowned. He continued, "If I said guilders, would I be in this backwater port of St Lawrence? No. I'd be in Havana or Kingston. Or spending it in Port Royal." She didn't say anything. "Alright, come back to bed and I wil tell you a bedtime story." She pointed out the window. "It's daylight." "Aye, but this is a bed and I can tell you a story about a chest." She sighed and let the dressing gown go. She got back under the sheet and folded her arms. "This had better be worth my while." "Oh, I promise you--hasn't it been so far?" He reached for her once more, she put her hand on his chest and whispered. "Not again. Not till you tell me this story about a chest."

Jack reached under the bed and pulled the bottle of merlot he had filched on their way to the room. He pulled the cork out of the bottle wtih his teeth and spit it across the room. "Wine, my dear?" "On top of the whiskey? The top of my head hurts. Even my hair." "Ah, all the more so. It's called '' hair o' the dog that bit ye!' She frowned. "If you are sure I will feel better..." Jack poured her a glass and said, "I never lie about a good vintage. Now drink up like a good little girl." Honour gently took the wine goblet out of Jack's hand, taking a sip. She gazed at him over therim. "Mmm....I don't think you need any more wine." "Rest assured," he said with a sly smile. "The spirit is willing, and so is the flesh." She smiled, "In the spirit of the occasion...." Honour handed the wine back to Jack. "What's this? I thought I was cut off for the night. Although..." He held it up to the candlelight behind Honour. "You seem to have gotten your fair share of it!" "And it is community property, love. But see how it sparkles in the candlelight?" "Community property," Jack echoed. "This sounds somewhat ominous, the way it rolled off your tongue." She laughed as she ran her finger from his lips to his chest, 'It means what's yours is mine...and what is mine is yours....' A huge, eager grin broke out on his face. "Well, that's not ominous at all..." He kissed her lips, teasingly at first, but quickly more insistent. "And I take it what you want right now is mine..." she whispered. "I'll be sharing what's mine in the process, so it evens out. Yes?" "And if I am the recipient of yours, you had better make it the best you have to offer then." "Oh, always," he said. "I'll make certain you get only my best. Which I'm afraid, unless I get rid of this wine glass, will be less than impressive." She reached over and gently took the glass out of his hand. "Here..." She hurled it against the fireplace shattering it into pieces. "You celebrate an important occasion by drinking only once from a goblet and then smashing it . Because another occasion will never be worthy of it. I'll clean it up in the morning....' "Oh, I do love the way you think. See? I appreciate you for your mind as well as your body." Honour put her arms around Jack and rolled over with him over her. "I don't mind that you appreciate my body, Jack. I really don't." "Oh, good! Because I intend to show my appreciation for your body for the next several hours, at the least..." "My goodness! Confident in your stamina, are you?" "What can I say? You have me feeling especially... inspired." She smiled, "And perspired. After all, it releases endorphins." "Endorphins'? Why do we want to release a lot of bloody great fish?" She giggled, "It's the chemical that makes you feel good. Like a wrung out towel." "Oh, I do like that feeling...Let's see how many times we can feel that way!" Honour pulled herself away from Jack. "You mean lots of little feeling that way or one big one?" Jack got a very worried look on his face. "Oh, no, no, no, love. Not a lot of little ones. Several BIG ones." Her face flushed. "I don't know if I can take it..." "Then we'll spread them out. No sense being greedy and having them all at once," he said with a wink. She frowned, "I don't know if we have that kind of time. Amos is expecting me at work tomorrow." Jack shook his head. "I'll cover any expense he may be worried about, love. Plus more." "Captain Wolfe, have you always been this insatiable? I'm startin to believe the stories really ARE true!" Jack brought his face close to hers and looked deeply into her eyes. "Honour, every tavern story, every fable, every myth has at least a grain of truth at its centre." She smiled seductively at him while she drew him close. "Well, let's put that element of truth to the test, shall we, Captain Wolfe?" "Like I said, I love the way you think!" he laughed. She nibbled on his ear....: "Just love me..at least for tonight." "Tonight is a good start. Maybe you'll even leave a few tavern stories behind of your own." "Oh, I don't kiss and tell." Honour felt his hand slide down her body and her breath caught in her throat. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, his teeth grazing that one spot that never failed to send thrills through her. 'So much for me falling asleep...' she thought.

She could hear Jack stir behind her. "What a perfect night for staying in bed," he purred. "Where else would I go in the middle of the night?" Honour rubbed her temples. "If only I could remember how I got here...." "Does any of that really matter? I'm a bit fuzzy on where I'm at, but that's not stopping me from having a good time." She looked at him hopefully. "You think I am a good time?" "Calling you a 'good time' is damning with faint praise, love!" She pulled back the blanket and slid back into bed. "If only I could remember where my pantalets got thrown....' Jack put his arm around her and pulled her close. "Worry about them in the morning. You have no need for them right now." She landed on top of him. He wound his hand in her hair, pulling her so close their lips were only inches apart. "See?" he whispered. "Isn't this much better?" Honour had to remember to keep breathing when she found herself unable to tear her gaze from his eyes. "I don't know if it is better or not. I only have two times to compare." "Oh, you do have a very good point, love! Very good indeed." He kissed her deeply, but stopped abruptly. "Let's start the comparison, shall we?" She gazed into his eyes and said quietly, 'Oh, you mean I should compare you to the other captains I have had?" "Well, I hadn't planned on anything as ambitions as that," he said with a surprised laugh. "I don't feel inclined toward sharing you, that's for sure. You make me feel very greedy. But as a captain, I am fully confident that I measure up. Although I have heard the quartermasters could give us a run for our money." "Well, I consort with no one but captains. Not even quartermasters, Rhys." Jack glanced to either side of the bed with his eyes. "Who's Rhys? Your husband?" She realized the faux pas and covered it quickly. "I think you misunderstood. I have no husband." She held up her hand. 'There are no lines on my finger to indicate a ring, now, is there, Captain?" He ran his finger over hers where a wedding ring would have resided, then drew her hand to his lips. He kissed her ring finger, and gave her a devilish look. "It's a good thing, too. With all the whiskey we had, I'm not sure I could deal with an angry husband tonight!" She fixed her eyes on his. "And you certainly aren't dressed for it." She ran her finger from his lips down to his chest. "Did anyone ever tell you that you talk to much, Captain?' "Then, my dear, you're going to have to find a way to shut me up," he said with a wink. She moved closer to him and whispered, 'Any preference?" He shook his head slowly. "I play captain enough when my clothes are on. I'll let you surprise me." "And can you serve under someone like me?" "Aye, m'lady. That I can. And rigorously! And...I think you found the way to shut me up!"

This was sent to me by a friend who wrote this years ago. It was too good to keep to myself and with her permission, I am posting it here to share with you. ©2011 by Denise Andrew Medley. All Rights Reserved. DAMSEL ME AND PIRATE YOU Not unless you take the wheel Could you know or could you feel The boldest man I ever knew... Damsel me and pirate you A sailor on his brutal quest Pillage souls and plunder flesh A bleeding heart is his tattoo.... Damsel me and pirate you A journey sweet and glory bound Smacks of cruel and runs aground The roughest storm that ever blew.... Damsel me and pirate you Danger sweeps across the deck Bruise my arm and bites my neck Stole my breath and left no clue.... Damsel me and pirate you Against all odds that I could win Velvet lips against my skin Drew your sword and ran me through.. Damsel me and pirate you Ripped my heart and left me frail Took my love and then set sail Abandoned me without a crew... Damsel me and pirate you Did you catch me on my knees Petty thief...oh pretty please Tell me know what I should do... Damsel me and pirate you Forty years later..... A rakish man who prowls at sea And boasted his virility Was once the soul I used to be.... Damsel you and pirate me Naïve lady in distress A novice in a sultry dress Did meet a man of revelry... Damsel you and pirate me A lover's dream in silhouette Stands before me soaking wet Picked your lock and turned my key Damsel you and pirate me A shallow brute who lost his edge And fell down on his knees instead When lust became my enemy... Damsel you and pirate me Empty words are laid to rest Pocket of coins and loneliness Left a hole that you can't see... Damsel you and pirate me I can't touch and I can't taste Or see the moonlight on your face But I still hold the memory Damsel you and pirate me And now behold this mortal man Whose ghost ship ages in the sand I close my eyes....and long to see.... Damsel you and pirate me

She slowly woke up, the twilight fading into shadows on the wall. "Jack? Jack?" she whispered. He was sound asleep. Honour rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow and stared at the sleeping man. What was it about him that made her want him so badly? Was it his rakish good looks? Charisma? The way he made her feel? She even liked way he smelled. She leaned close and drank in his scent. A smile touched her lips as she thought about how he smelled like spices. Old spices with a hint of leather and sweat. She had never had anyone set her on fire like this man did. Even Rhys never made her feel like this. So...wanton. So...wicked and with no shame. Her face coloured at the thought of how much she enjoyed herself, and him. A giggle escaped her lips. Then her convent upbringing kicked in and she wondered how hot the flames of hell would be. And if she had a chemise light enough for the heat and what boots she could wear. And would Jack be there? She marveled that even when he was sleeping, she could almost read his mind. It was obvious he was a man of... well, action. If it was something he wanted, then sooner or later it would fall into his hands. And right now, in his hands is just where she wanted to be. She sighed happily. The rest was pretty great, too. She wondered how long it would take him to recoup his resources She began to gently kiss his skin, first across his chest, then to his neck. Jack stirred, but didn't wake up. As she continued kissing him, her eyes strayed down his body which was covered only with the thin sheet. And her eyes went wide. He had clearly already recovered... 'This man must be automatic' she thought, and hastened over to her own side of the bed. 'Curiosity killed the cat', she thought to herself. 'And if that's true, then it must have been satisfaction that brought her back.' Honour laid there staring at the ceiling and wondered how long she should let him sleep. He had a slight smile on his face. What was he thinking? And was she enough woman for him? She turned to face him. Carefully, she studied his features. Crow's feet from squinting into the Caribbean sun were beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. Unlike so many sailors she'd seen, his face was not leathery. There was a softness to it she found appealing. Some mischievous something inside her made her take her finger and tickle the end of his nose. He wrinkled his nose and snorted. She softly giggled, tracing her finger down to his mouth gently. She traced the outline of his lips with her fingertip. Her thoughts drifted back to how these lips kissed her, caressed her, and made her feel like a woman. She sighed and reached over for a blanket. Wrapping herself in it, she lit a candle that was on the dresser. The shadows immediately came to life. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat in the chair, staring at her bed. She could scarcely believe nor comprehend the enormity of what she had done the previous night before. She was a tavern wench yesterday. Today the bride of a pirate. She shook her head as if to clear it and achieve an understanding. She drew the blanket around her and tucked her legs up under her. What a shock to wake up and find herself married. She looked over at her new husband sleeping in her bed. A wave of guilt swept over her. She felt disloyal to the memory of the only man she swore she would ever love. She ran her fingers through her hair, deep in thought. Spying the marriage license that was crumpled on the floor, she bent to pick it up. Smoothing it out, she looked at it. It certainly looked legal. She hardly remembered filling it out. Damn whiskey! The date was right. That early, early morning. John Michael Wolfe. Honour Bright. She hardly knew the man who was now her husband. The only thing that she knew at this point was his name and his ship. Not where he was from. Not even his age. She did know one thing. He could really hold his whiskey. And he was good in.... She pushed that thought out of her mind. That doesn't count. Not really. All right, it does, but that's for another time. She sat back and closed her eyes. A thought occurred to her and a smile came to her lips. A loophole in case she should need it. Because when it all came down to it... Who was Honour Bright? It was the name she used when she had come to St. Lawrence. A name that no one would be able to trace back to Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine. She took a sip of wine and thought back to that night she entered the tavern, eager to find a job. Amos, the tavern keeper, asked her, "And what be yer name, lassie?" She blurted out the first thought in her head. It was a phrase she heard her father and her husband, who both sat on the House of Lords, utter. 'Honour Bright'. An assurance of truth or fidelity. A cynical smile crossed her lips. Truth. Her whole existence since she came to St. Lawrence was a lie. And fidelity? The very reason she had to lie. A wave of chill came over her. From the coolness of the room or the pang of her conscience, she couldn't tell. Did it really matter anymore? Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine was, in essence, dead. Honour Bright took her place.

The skies delivered a clap of thunder, waking Honour up. She lifted her head from her pillow to see sheets of rain hitting the windowpane. Honour groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. She couldn't understand why she felt so wonderful despite the pounding of her head from the hangover she had. She rolled over in her bed and absent-mindedly stretched out. She felt....skin? A body? She opened one eye and....whaaat? Snoring softly on the pillow beside her was a man. At least she was pretty sure it was a man. Wildly tousled brown hair obscured the person's face. She lifted the covers to make sure. Oh, yes, definitely a man...Then she looked down at the floor and saw a trail of clothes that led to the door. Next to her side of the bed was a puddle of silk. She kept looking from under the sheet...to the body next to her...to the discarded silk....back under the sheet and to the body again. Honour tried to move as far as she could to the edge of the bed. She quietly leaned on her elbow, keeping the sheet up around her chin. Her head pounded from the whiskey and she rubbed her temples. The body rolled over and she looked upon the sleeping face. It was the pirate from the tavern the night before. Bits and pieces of the night before started to reconnect in her mind. She threw the covers back over her head. 'Gotta think...gotta think....Alright, so now do I say, 'Thank you very much, that is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done to me. It was great and very nice to have met you and if you are ever in port again...' I mean, it's not like I have never had company in my bed.' She looked under the bed. 'Well, at least he has great boots too." Honour tried to slip out of the bed as quietly as she could. But before she could escape, his arm was around her, preventing her from leaving. A little squeak escaped her but she quickly realized he was very much asleep. The more Honour tried to slip from the man's grasp, the tighter he held on. Finally she quit struggling and lay looking up at the ceiling once more. She touched her silver necklace. 'I don't think I had better ask you for help on this one, Mother. You would probably say, 'Rhiannon, you got yourself into this one, better get out of this one yourself.' She looked over at her bedmate who was still out cold. A determined look came over her face. Gently, she lifted the edge up on his pillow to partially cover his face, just enough to hopefully get him to move. And move he did. Out of reflex, he took his arm from around Honour to move the obstruction out of the way. She popped free from his grasp and landed on the floor with an unceremonious thump. She scrambled to grab the sheet ever so carefully and wrap it around her. Sitting carefully in the chair, she stared at the handsome pirate. "Oh, please please let him be a captain...' She looked over at the pile of clothes on the floor that belonged to him. Hers were strewn in a trail that not surprisingly led right to the bed. She could see his frock coat, and sword, and what looked to be the butt of an ornate Spanish pistol. "Whew!" she breathed. "I think he's a captain, all right. A girl has to keep her standards." She picked up her bodice and saw the lacings cut in little pieces. "I know there has to be a logical explanation....I just wish I knew what it was.' Beside his breeches, she spied a bone-handled dagger. A smile slowly tugged at the corners of her mouth. 'Oh yeah, that's why....I can't remember when the pants came off...' She traced her trail of clothes again, starting at the door and working toward the bed. Her mouth dropped open a little as she realized there was a good three feet between her chemise and her boots that were right beside the bed. 'I must have fallen face first in bed then...but something tells me I didn't exactly fall. Carried? Carried works...But how did my boots get off? And why last? A bodice is one thing, but if he so much as shortened a bootlace...' Honour quickly inspected her boots to find the laces were indeed as she'd left them. She looked at them. 'Oh crap. I broke a heel....Maybe I can guilt him into buying a new pair? It's worked before,' she mused. 'I wonder how his credit is...' She crawled around the floor, looking for her pantelets. 'They have to be here somewhere...OW!' Her knee landed on a button. 'These aren't mine...' Honour found a silk shirt and held it up. Buttons were torn from it and it was ripped halfway up the back. 'Oh, Muir, what have you done?' Then she realized Muir was over at the tavern sleeping under the table to keep Amos company. She picked up her chemise. The drawstring was missing. Her face turned crimson at the thought of Malcolm knocking at her door to see if she was alright. "I heard noises. Are you alright? You aren't getting killed, are you?" "No, Malcolm. It must have been in the alley." She was wrapped in a sheet and her hair was tousled and her lipcolour smeared. Honour bit her lip and wondered if you could actually die from it. The rush of blood out of your head...how can such a man have such stamina? And know all the right buttons to push? And push them so perfectly. She couldn't even remember his name. As she passed the dresser, a piece of paper caught her eye. She picked it up. A marriage license. Two names were on it. John Michael Wolfe Honour Bright MARRIED?

Honour fumbled for the key she kept hidden above the doorjamb. Jack took it out of her hand and put it in the keyhole. Then he drew his foot back and practically kicked the door open. He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. Honour stood there with the moonlight streaming through the window. Jack drew her to him, winding her hair in his hand, his face only an inch from hers. "And now you got what you wanted. A wedding band. Now it is my turn to get what I want." He gave her skirt a quick tug and it fell to the floor. Her breath caught in her throat as Jack moved his hand down her cheek and slowly down to her bodice lacings, his fingers finding their way under the lacings. He tugged. Nothing. "Th-th-they seem to be knotted." "It's a good thing I'm here. I'm quite good with knots." He deftly reached into his boot and produced a slender bone-handled dagger, its blade glinted in the dim light. Her voice cracked as she whispered, 'No...no..."and backed against the wall. "No, wait..." Jack didn't expect her fearful response. He looked at the knife in his hand and silently cursed himself. How could she know he meant no harm? "Here," he said gently, and took her hand in his. Honour watched as he tenderly wrapped her fingers around the hilt. His eyes never left hers. Jack covered her hand with his and gently placed the dagger under the bottom lacing. With a slow flick of the tip, the lacing gave way as if it were butter and one by one the lacings slowly cut away . "I may not be good at lacing but I know the best way to un--" The trepidation Honour had felt quickly turned to a building excitement as each lace yielded to the edge of the blade. Each knot gave way and the garment fell away. Honour stood there in her chemise, shivering. He took the marriage license out of his pocket and whispered in her ear, "The sword is mightier than the pen, it would seem." He tossed the paper on the dresser. Jack drew her to him and traced his finger along the edge of the chemise, his finger catching the edge. A whisper of softness and a promise to what lay underneath it. "And now let's see if what I find is worthy of a gold band." Her eyes were cast downward as he gently tugged the chemise down from her shoulders. She put her arms around his neck and drew him close to her. "Make love to me. Even if you tell me lies, I'll pretend to believe them and we can face the dawn and sort it out. But for tonight I will believe anything you tell me. Just love me. Love me strong and love me all night long. Just for tonight." Jack stood back from her. The chemise drifted towards the floor, landing in a puddle of silk at her feet. He gazed at her curves. A smile slowly spread across his face as he whispered to himself, 'Well, damn. This is going to be a great night.....'

MONKEYS!

Honour stood up and said, "I can't believe the hour, Captain Wolfe. I really must call it a night. Much as I hate this night to end." "You're not serious, are you? I mean, the sun isn't up yet. That's the true signal the night is over." He stood and stepped close to her. "But bedtime is always negotiable..." She laughed and put her hands on his chest, giving him a soft push away. "The sun may not be up yet but you forget that I am a mere tavern wench and I have been on my feet since this morning." Jack wrapped his hands around hers. Honour was surprised how gentle yet insistent he could be. "Fine. I'll carry you. The hour is late, by your own admission. And I would be remiss in my duties as a gentleman-- all right, I heard that giggle--to let you go home unattended. Where is your room? I promise to deliver you safely." She snaked her arm around his neck and pulled him closer to her, whispering in his ear. "You may be a knight in shining armour, Captain, but I have been able to hold my whis---whiskey fairly well and...." "Hey, Honour! WE NEED MORE RUM!" She snapped at the pirates at the table across the room. "Can't you see that I am doo-offty? Off duty. That is what I meant. Get someone else to do it for you." Jack looked over at the table of tarry lads and arched an eyebrow. "You lot are well done for. Quiet, or shift. There are other barmaids." He gave them a wink. "This one's busy!" Jack turned to Honour. "And I mean that in the most respectful way, I promise. Just shutting the lads up." Honour put a finger to his lips. "How about you shut up, and concentrate on escorting me home? Because really, I am not so think as you drunk I am. But yes, the Hades just pulled in and the girls always check to make sure they have their knickers when they leave here. The boys have been known to get excep---exceptionally firsky...FRISKY! I meant frisky." "Well then, since I know the crew of the Hades and their exploits, allow me to offer my services in defence of your knickers, my dear! I shall pay special attention to them, even if they should end up on the floor with my assistance. Remember how you promised to get naked with me when we started drinking?" She held up her finger and placed it softly to his lips. "Ah, that is where you are wrong, Captain. I never promised that. I said let's see who perspires...I mean what transpires...and I never promised to be your port. So you can just leave my pantalets out of this equation." Jack pulled her close. "Equations? I was never very good at math. One plus one equals us. Nothing else much matters, yeah?" "Nothing except the basic math. First you add the whiskey. Then you subtract my clothes. I'm not even getting into the division...." "Or the multiplication. That we can toss out straight away. But I'm all for subtracting your clothes, mine too, then adding me to you." He shook his head. "What is with all the mathematics? Music! That's what we should be talking about. The beautiful music we could make together..." She giggled, "I don't think any bawdy sea shanties fit me. And the only music I think you want to hear is the creak of bedsprings." Jack traced his finger along her neckline, lingering near her cleavage. "Shanties? No. You're the type symphonies are written about. But not operas. God, I hate operas. Alot of fat Germans screaming bad love poems at one another." She looked down at his finger and gently removed it. "I am Welsh. And I prefer being the kind of woman nations go to war over." "Funny, I own what some consider to be a warship. Who would you have me conquer in your name, fair Helen?" Honour leaned over him and whispered, "Surprise me with a few apples of gold, noble Paris." She stood slightly away from him. "I bet you didn't know I knew that, did you?" Jack grinned. "I was hoping you did! You're obviously a woman of bearing and grace. What you're doing here... that's a mystery to me. You're out of place. Yet you fit in by commanding respect. And you get it. You've certainly gotten it from me." She smiled and kissed him gently on the lips. "And now it is time I get back to my room. But yes, the way the Hades crew is all riled up, I really would appreciate it if you would see that I get safely to my room. It is just out the back door and up the stairs." "Evasive to the end. I have to respect that. Enigmatic beauty is universally irresistible." He searched her eyes, but he was just as drunk as she was. "All right, enough philosophical drivel. Lead the way, my dear! And I shall guard you from anyone and anything. Excluding myself, of course." She looked over and frowned. "I suppose I should say goodnight to Amos but he must be in the back...Kate?" she called out. "I'm leaving now. Remind Amos I have tomorrow off. I'll see him on Monday." Kate gave her a wave. "I really appre---appreciate this, Captain. We can go out the back way." She opened the back door and into the hot sultry night. And whatever else awaited.

"You polish that tankard anymore and you will have nothing but a handle left." Kate ambled over to where Amos was polishing and scowling. She leaned against the counter and tucked her small towel into her waistband. "There! There is the problem!" He nodded towards the table where Honour sat with a handsome pirate. "What, Honour and that honey of a pirate?" Amos glared at Kate. "Yes, Honour and Captain Charming over there. They've been at it for the last three hours." "At....what?" He continued to polish and slammed the tankard down. "Whatever. I don't know. All I know is that he is up to no good." "You can tell from over here?" "I know his type. All flash. He's wining and dining her." "But they aren't eating." "Alright then, he's wining." "It's whiskey." Amos put his hands on the counter and leaned towards Kate. "Are we getting into semantics now? She's about to fall back into her usual habits." "And how can you tell?" "Watch." "Watch what?" "Look at her. First she leans forward.....then the little tilt with the shoulder....followed by her taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around her finger...now she gives him that smile...and lowers her eyes....and repeat." Kate was in awe. "How do you know what she is going to do?" Amos threw his dishrag down. "Because young Missy over there has been following the same pattern ever since she has been here. Only the person sitting across from her changes." "You need to get yourself a hobby, Amos!" He folded his arms across his chest. "And you are no better, Miss Kate! I saw you putting a little more swing in your backyard when that friend of his was here." She gave him a wide-eyed look. "What friend?" "That tall pirate with the shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. Rugged-looking. Big shoulders. I saw you." "And what did I happen to do?" "Lean a little closer when you put his drink down. And I can smell the rosewater that you spritzed on not more than five minutes after they arrived!" "It was a coincidence, Amos. I happened to brush up against that rose bush outside." Amos gave a derisive laugh. "And if I believe that one, you have a nice waterfront lot to sell me over on Queen Street!" "There IS no waterfront....oh. I see. Alright, so he took down my name and said he would be in tomorrow and maybe we could have dinner. Is it my fault he liked my....backyard?" Amos shook his head. "Like herding cats you girls are. Especially you and Honour. Damn, if you weren't so attractive and bringing in the money, I would toss the two of you out of here." "You wouldn't, Amos. You love us." "Damn right I do. That is why I keep you two on. Birds of a feather, you two are. And that is why you struck up such a fast friendship." "Honour will be alright, Amos. She is just lonely and that captain seems to be keeping her entertained." Amos glared. "Oh, yeah? Well, who is entertaining who, I wonder? Just look!" Kate looked over. "What am I looking at?" "Miss Bright just happens to be running her foot casually up and down that pirate's leg. No good can come of that." Kate looked over and laughed. "You are imagining things." "Am I? Now watch him. First he pours her a drink....then one for him...tops hers off. Now he leans back and look!...his arm casually rests on the back of her chair...his finger slowly running on her arm....then he gives her that charming smile of his...doesn't even have a gold tooth in his head...and that Spanish pistol...you know how she is a pushover for a big pistol...." Kate sighed. "She will be alright, Amos. She will drink herself blind and he will leave since he figures it isn't going to get him anywhere. Then you or I can make sure she gets to bed." Amos scowled. "Something not right here. This one is flash, I tell you. Lots of gold coins and that smile. Like a cat with a canary. Playing with it until he goes in for the kill....." Kate picked her towel up and headed towards the customers but said over her shoulder, "You worry too much, Amos." He frowned. "Maybe....maybe...but this time I doubt it!"

Jack couldn't help but laugh himself as he walked back to where Honour waited patiently. Is everything all right? she asked. "Just fine, love. Couldn't be better, in fact, now that I'm in your company once more." Honour's cheeks flushed pink. You flatter me, Captain. I meant every word of it. "What did you say the name of your ship was again?" she said, half-heartedly trying to change the subject to safer ground. "El Lobo del Mar." She put her finger to her lips and with a quick intake of breath, said, "El Lobo del Mar? Why, she is a legend in these waters! None is said to outrun her!" Jack beamed with pride. "Aye, that would be my ship, love." Her eyes grew wide. "Captain 'Mad' Jack Wolfe!' I have heard of you!" "You have?" "Why, yes. It is said you never leave a ship unscathed." He picked up his whiskey glass. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and added, "Or a woman unsatisfied." Jack paused in mid-drink. "Yes, well, there is that...." She took a deep drink of the whiskey, reveling in the warmth going down. She was beginning to forget about the bruise on her cheek. "My, my! " she said. "I hear bits and pieces of tavern gossip that echoes through this port. A Dutch merchant ship was overtaken a few days ago by--dare I say?--pirates. An agent for the VOC was at the magistrate's office filing a report on the burning of a vessel, the Stad Utrecht. Seems the crew were set adrift in a skiff and were rescued three days later by Portuguese fishermen. Jack gave her a wide grin and said, "I wouldn't know a thing. You might say I was an almost completely innocent bystander." Honour laughed and said, "That's good to hear! I wonder what booty the vessel was carrying?" Jack leaned forward and poured another whiskey for Honour and himself. "Oh, I imagine the usual. Calico. Spices. Coffee. Wine. And twenty-four chests of gold and silver guilders." "Tw-tw-twenty-four chests of guilders?" Honour was astonished. Jack lit a pipe and took a deep draw on it. "Now, did I say THAT?" he grinned. She laughed and said, "I'm sorry. No, I didn't hear that at all! My, it is getting awfully warm in here." Jack poured another whiskey. "I daresay you are beginning to feel better already." She raised an eyebrow and said, "Indeed. I feel just fine. In more ways than one." She leaned closer to him and ran her finger up and down his arm and whispered in a husky voice, "And I daresay I am going to feel alot better very soon. VERY soon." Jack began to melt into her irresistible allure. The heat of her breath on his ear as she spoke the words 'VERY soon' made more than the hair on the back of his neck stand up. But he had to be sure if her interest was in him or just what she could gain by a roll in the proverbial sack with him. He looked her squarely in the eyes. "What be your aim in all of this, darling? I'm not some young seaman, ready to believe the enchanting words of a beautiful woman with honey on her tongue and gold in her eyes. Is it me or is it the prize I carried in?" Honour stood up and leaned over the table. "I suppose I could ask you the same thing. Is it me you are interested in or just my body for a night of pleasure? You know what? You are a bastard, Jack Wolfe. I may work tables in a tavern but I am not a cheap doxy here for you to have a night of fun. . If that is what you want, there are plenty of other wenches here with low standards." She turned to leave and Jack grabbed her by the arm. Amusment glittered in his eyes. "Hold on there, Miss Bright. I appreciate your honesty. And I meant no harm by it. I've been a cynic too long when it comes to matters of the...heart. So before you get your pantalets in a twist, sit down and let's have some meaningful conversation." She sat down. Jack gave her a grin and said, "So how about another whiskey and then I take your clothes off?" She stood up her face, flaming. "How dare you..." His face dropped in mock disappointment. "You don't like the whiskey?" She burst out laughing. "You are still a bastard, Jack Wolfe. A dangerous, magnificent bastard but I like you." He poured another glass and pushed it in her direction. "No need to drink and run then. Stay awhile and I promise to be witty and charming and mind my manners. Until you tell me otherwise. Then we can get naked together!" She shook her head, laughing. "You are the kind of man a woman can't stay mad at." "Does that mean yes to the naked?" She shook her head. "It means yes to the whiskey." "And then the clothes?" She traced her finger around the rim of her glass and looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "We shall see what transpires." He took a drink of his whiskey and looked at her over the rim of his glass. "Ah, you give me hope, Miss Bright!" "And what if hope is all I give you?" Jack leaned forward. "Oh before the night is over, you may just find out if those tavern stories really are true." The back of his hand stroked her unbruised cheek. His finger ran down to the neckline of her chemise and ran across the edge of it. She felt her breath stop and she had to will herself to breathe again. "I'd be careful if I were you, Jack Wolfe. I am weaponed." He reached in and took out her bodice dagger. She gasped at how fast he was able to retrieve it, and even more amazed that his fingers skimmed over her skin. He studied it in the candlelight of the tavern table. Running his finger over the blade, he said, "Nice. You keep it sharp. Most women wouldn't even know what to do with it." He turned it over in his hand. "Mother of pearl handle. Ruby in the hilt. Expensive. How did you come by it?" Her face coloured. "It was a gift." He deftly returned it to its nestled spot. But this time it seems he took his time. "More whiskey, darling?" She held out her glass and smiled. "I certainly hope you aren't planning on getting me drunk, Captain. Because it won't work." "What won't work?" "Oh, you figured a little liquid encouragement and you found a place to port for the night." "Oh, you discovered my plan then." She leaned forward, the whiskey starting to take its toll. "I said you were a bastard and I meant it." "I have no doubt." She drew closer to him. "Gentlemen hold no fascination for me. Bastards, on the other hand...." He could feel the heat rising off her and said, "Then prepare to be spellbound...." Jack was beginning to feel like he was drawn into her web and at that point he wondered. Was he the hunter? Or the game?

He looked into her eyes, and marveled at their depth. Brilliant blue, like the sky after the passing of a summer storm, but tinged with sadness. Her face was delicate and defined, with high cheekbones and a softly radiant smile that he somehow felt the world did not witness nearly often enough. A glint of light drew his attention downward, where he spied the hilt of the ruby inlaid dagger she'd deftly used to defend herself earlier nestled securely in her ample cleavage. She caught his eyes lingering, and tipped his head back up by gently taking hold of his goatee. "I am flattered, Captain Wolfe. But I do prefer that a gentleman looks at my eyes when we talk," she said with a bemused smile. He looked at her, and did something she never expected. He blushed. Honour gazed at Jack but there was pain in her eyes. The brute had struck her harder than she had thought. She asked the handsome pirate, "Are you sure the whiskey will help better than the ale?" He smiled disarmingly at her and said, "As sure as I am standing here, love." Amos set two glasses of Irish whiskey in front of them. Jack motioned to Amos, "And keep the bottle here. Oh, hell! Make it two!" he winked. Amos scowled, "You just get any thoughts and designs out of your head, scallawag! That little lass is like a daughter to me." Jack raised his eyebrow. "A daughter, you say? Then why do you let her deal cards for the miscreants of that other ship? If she were my daughter--which she most certainly isn't--I would take a little more care to protect her than to let her get slapped by a brute like the one you pitched out of here." Honour listened to the exchange. "Can the lass say something here? Amos does watch over me. It was a business proposition, fair and square." Amos glared at Jack. "I've seen your kind in here before! And I'm keeping my eye on you, sir." Honour sighed. "Excuse me, please, Captain Wolfe." She took Amos aside and put her hands on her hips. "And what seems to be the problem, Amos? You never raised a fuss when I had a drink with anyone before." He continued to polish the glass and said, "I don't like the way he is looking at you, Honour. Like you are fresh meat in a butcher shop." She tossed her head and laughed, "He's handsome and charming." Amos put his hands on the tavern counter and leaned towards Honour. "And that is what worries me, darlin'! It is like catnip to a cat, Miss Puss-in-Boots." He ticked his fingers off. "Handsome. Charming. A captain. The only thing that is missing is, 'Is he rich? Can he show Miss Bright a good time?' I know you, Missy. Three out of four and you wil be bidding me nighty-night with your hand on his arm, tossing your hair as you walk out that door." She laughed. "Please don't worry, Amos. Have you ever known me not to hold my whiskey?" He frowned, "Once or twice. The last time you almost got killed." "Well, I am older and wiser now." "Ha! Older by about two months." She laid her hand on Amos' arm and said, "Please don't worry. I know better now. It's not like I am running off to marry him. He looks to be good conversation." As she walked away, Amos muttered, 'Right. Good conversation. And then you be scrambling on the floor looking for your pantalets....' She turned her attention back to Jack. "So..you just made port?" "Just this morning. I need to do a little..unloading." "Really! And what could that be?" She cupped her chin in her hand and gazed up at him from under long lashes. Before he could answer, Jack felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked round to find Briggs smirking at him. “Can I help you, Josiah?” he asked, quickly cutting his eyes over to Honour, then back again. “A moment of yer time, Captain?” asked Briggs. He gave Honour a warm smile. “Ship's business, ma'am.” Honour could tell from the gleam in the quartermaster's eye he was up to something. “By all means,” she said with a nod. “But not too long. I might get lonely.” Jack took her hand and kissed it, keeping his eyes locked with hers the entire time. “I promise, I'll only be a moment.” Then he shot Briggs an impatient look, and the two men walked a short distance away from where Honour stood. “Ship's business my arse!” Jack fumed. Briggs' mischievous smile only got bigger. “Are ye sure you're feelin' all right, Jack? Ye ain't actin' at all like yer normal self.” “What are you talking about?” “In case ye didn't notice, that young lady don't look one bit Spanish.” Jack burst out laughing. “Now, who was it had his head turned just this evening by a woman who isn't a redhead?” “Not true!” protested Briggs. “Dependin' on the light, I could see some red.” “Bollocks, and you know it! Fine, so this one's not Spanish. Nothing wrong with a little variety, yeah?” “I think ye be in a generous mood tonight, too. Yer gonna have to teach this youngster the ropes from the look of things. Unless ye plan on playin’ nanny.” “She’s not that young, Josiah.” “I dunno. Ye usually throw the little ones back. What is it ye say about them? Too ‘clingy’?” “I think I can handle the situation,” said Jack. “She works in a tavern, so she knows how all this works. It’s all just a bit of fun and company, then I move along. No harm, no foul.” Briggs chuckled. “Well, don't worry. I know better than to try and talk sense with ye when a woman's involved. I'm goin' back to the ship for a bit of shut eye. Just don't expect me to leave a light burnin' for ye!” The quartermaster turned and sauntered off, shaking his head and laughing to himself.

Honour walked down the stairs from her room, her eyes scanning the crowd. 'Wall to wall pirates. It's going to be a late night, ' she thought. As she reached the tavern main room, Kate sidled up to her and crossed her arms. "Two ships ported today. That is why we are so busy." "Which ones?" "The Hades and another ship that I didn't get to find out. Hey, Malcolm! What was the name of that ship that ported?" From the back the voice yelled out, "I can't remember. But something Spanish." Kate turned to Honour and said, "Something Spanish." Honour laughed, "Yes, I caught that. Damn. The Hades? That is a rough crowd." "Don't I know it. But grin and bear it. The nicer you are, the more they spend. And the more they spend, the more they drink. " Honour finished, "The more they drink, the sloppier they get. I love cleaning up the floor after." Kate laughed. "It can be profitable to be a charwoman." Honour raised her eyebrow. "Charwoman? Bite your tongue, Kate. Think of it more as a dividend. A bonus. A----" "Fringe benefit?" Kate added. Honour grimaced. "I wouldn't know. I haven't been laid since Corwin." Kate gave her hand a squeeze. "You'll get over that, honey. You are just a bit gun-shy." She sighed. "I get lonely, Kate. Really lonely. Sometimes I just want to...." Her thought trailed off into the nether. And James Blake came unbidden to her mind. Kate frowned. "Remember that vow you made? No slap and tickle till you have a ring on your finger?" Honour's eyes skimmed the crowd. "You're right. But it doesn't make the nights any warmer." "And you are dealing cards tonight?" She sighed. "Yes. Amos thinks this crowd is ready to part with their money. And the more they drink, the more they gamble." Kate added, "And the more they lose." Honour shrugged, "I run a fair table. If they lose, they don't have the savvy." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Alright. Let's have a go at it." She adjusted her bodice, arranging her assets just so. She sighed. 'It's going to be a long night....' Honour walked over to the table and flashed a smile. "Gentlemen? And I use the term ever so loosely..." Honour leaned forward ever so slightly to afford them a look and a promise of what lay beneath the silk gown. "Now who is ready to play Bone-Ace?" The men clamoured and dug deep in their pockets, throwing their ante on a pile in the center of the table. Honour's slender fingers gently stroked the deck of cards, The sensuous gesture was not lost on these men. She looked each one in the eyes, sizing up what she may have to deal with. Then she smiled. "Shall we begin?" Her fingers flew as she shuffled the cards and dealt them out. "And we all know the rules of the game?" One pirate grinned, "Ye be givin' th' winner a bit extra? Ye know...as a reward?" The men guffawed at that. Honour mentally rolled her eyes but she smiled, "Well, now, there is always that possibility. Do any of you captain a ship?" The tall pirate with a cavalier hat pulled rakishly down leered, "I be a captain, aye, little lady. O' me own vessel." With that the men erupted into laughter. Honour smiled, "Yes, I am sure you are. And you frequently polish the shipwheel, I presume?" With that the pirates filled the tavern with their bawdy laughter. She gave them a dimpled smile and said, "Now then, shall we play a game and see what transpires later, gentlemen? Winner takes all."

"Gentlemen? We have three days in port. That includes nights. So I would recommend that you make the most of them. I know I shall!" The cheer went up from his crew. "And anyone not back here at 6 AM when we sail off will be left behind with no compensation. You may find your belongings on the deck. If they are still there." The men filed off down the gangplank. The quartermaster turned to the captain. "And are ye staying on the ship, Captain? Or in town?" James Blake gave him a broad smile. "It seems I have a place to stay, Sanders." Sanders tipped his hat to the captain. "Blonde, brunette or redhead this time?" Blake thought back to the tavern wench with a smart mouth who intrigued him. "It doesn't really matter, Sanders. As Captain Wolfe says, 'All cats look alike in the dark.' " Sanders chuckled, "That Wolfe--it doesn't matter what they are as long as they are halfway decent, female...." "..and dusky," said Blake. "You would have thought that business with Mendoza's wife would have cured him of that." "Some habits die hard, Sanders. And if you want me, check in with Amos the barkeep. He most likely will know where to find me." Sanders grinned and wagged a finger at him. "The mystery is becoming clearer, Captain Blake." James took his hat and ran his finger over the feathers in his cavalier hat. "No, Sanders. It's not Maeve. Now, I'll see you back here Wedneday night." He whistled a tune as he walked down the gangplank and into the spring night. The Varlet and Vixen was hopping that night. Blake came into the tavern and his eyes skimmed over the crowd. The brunette with the snapping brown eyes was there, handing over an ale to a group of pirates. The redhead with the big...heart. She was scooping money off a table and wiping it down. But Honour was nowhere in sight. Possibly her night off? Honour's friend Kate was over by the barkeep Amos talking quietly. James looked her over appreciatively. He made his way over to where they were. Immediately they stopped talking. "Excuse me...Amos, is it?" He nodded. "Aye." "I was wondering---is Honour Bright here?" Kate shot Amos a look and Amos shrugged. "Why do you want to know?" Blake sensed he was an intruder in the inner circle but he pressed on. "I was just wondering. I wondered how she was doing. And wanting to pay my respects." Amos looked over at the tables in the corner. "Kate, your customers are waiting." "But, Amos...." "Now, lambchop. Go take care of your customers and things will be alright. I'll see to it." She looked from Blake to Amos. "Alrigh, Amos. I'm trusting you, though." He idly polished a tankard. "I know you are, Kate, darlin'. Don't fret." She gave a backward glance and walked over to her customers. Blake sat at the tavernkeep's bar. "I am not meaning any harm, Amos." He looked over. "She's away for a bit. Needed to see her kin. Mother took ill. She will be back. Just can't say when." "Her mother? I thought her mother was dead." "Maybe it was her father." "Father is dead, too." Amos said exasperatingly, "Well, then, it was somebody. Why are you so hot to see her? This is more than paying some respects to a tavern wench." He looked over at James Blake's fresh clothes and the tilt of his hat. This was no man looking for an easy time with any strumpet. This was a man who had come courting...or as close to courting as you could get in this backwater port. James found himself blushing. "I just wanted to see how she was doing. We....alright, so we spent a bit of time together." Amos grinned, "And you want to see if lightning strikes twice, is it?" James leaned over and looked Amos in the eye. "Is she here or not?" "Not." "Will she be back?" "In a few weeks. And you will be back at sea, won't you?" He nodded. "Care to give me your name, Captain? So's I can tell her when she gets back who was asking for her." "Blake. Captain James Blake of the Dark Vexation." Amos nodded, "Aye. I'll tell her you were asking for her. You seem like a decent sort." He slid a coin onto the table towards Amos. "I like to think so." And walked out of the tavern. Kate came back to Amos. "And what did he want with her?" "My guess is he wanted to take up where he left off with her. She was with him a few months ago." "He seems a decent sort of man. Not like that Corwin bastard. I swear, if I ever get my hands on him..." "Now, Kate. Karma will come back to him." "Yes, but Honour told me what happened to her in her room." Amos raised his eyebrow. She shook her head. "Don't ask. He's not a nice man. But believe me, she got even with him." "Should I have told that Blake guy where to find Honour?" Kate shook her head. "No. He can see her the next time he is in port. Right now she needs to rest. The sword cuts in themselves were not that bad. It will leave some slight scarring but the real danger was in the contamination. And I wouldn't be surprised if Corwin poisoned his sword on purpose. Because even if the cuts wouldn't kill, the sepsis would." Amos looked at her kindly. "You are a good friend to Honour." Kate smiled, "She's my best friend. And she would do the same for me." "Take the rest of the night off, Kate. Tend to your patient. There is soup in the kitchen. Take a bowl up to Honour." She gave him a hug. "And that is from Honour too. Don't worry, Amos. Together we will keep her safe and let her heal. And Corwin is safely out of the harbour. We saw his ship sail off two days ago." "Then I can rest easy." Kate left to go to the kitchen and take the back steps. Amos thought about James Blake. He almost felt sorry for the man. He had seen the effect that Honour had on quite a few of the men but he knew she wouldn't settle for just any man. Had to be a captain. 'The girl is running from something more than her redcoat fiance getting thrown from a horse. More to it. Men of the sea. Captains, no less. She's hiding something.' He thought of James Blake again. 'Aye, man. A taste of honey is worse than none at all....'

Amos had carried her to her room and summoned the doctor. The blade Jonas Corwin had used was contaminated. Between Doctor Benson and Honour's best friend Kate, they continued their ministrations on Honour. Honour stirred in her unconsciousness. She had been vaguely aware of someone holding her down and a burning sensation in her arm that felt like fire. The smell of bourbon wafted near her nose. In her delirium, she heard the clash of swords that brought back memories she thought she had pushed far down and blocked. Jonas brought those memories back. The dreams were always the same. The door banging open. The shadow in the candlelight. The angry voices, the accusations. And then.... She sat up and screamed. Kate jumped a mile. She came over to her. Honour was shaking. Kate gathered her into her arms and rocked her gently. All Honour could do was whisper, 'Oh God. The blood! All the blood! And there was not a thing I could do..' Kate made soothing noises to try to calm her down but to no avail. 'I tried! I really tried but he wouldn't listen....' She cried like her heart was breaking. Kate never left her side. Honour was shaking with the fever and talking of things she ought not. None of it made any sense. She tried to get her to calm down but Honour's skin was like fire. She looked at Kate and whispered to her, "Am I going to die?" She said, "Honour, you are feisty. I would hate to see the damage you inflicted on the person who did this to you." She murmured, "I need to make a confession." "Hush! There is time for that later." She whispered, "Two men died because of me, Kate. I never meant for it to happen. It just did. And now I shall burn in hell for it!" Kate tried not to smile. "Then I pity the devil when you arrive as he shall have his work cut out for him!" She shook her head. "If he is there, then I shall truly be in hell!" "Who? The devil?" "My husband." Kate tried to figure out what she was talking about. "You were married before? I did not know this. You are a widow?" She shook her head again. "No. I am a murderess." Kate was taken back by it. "I can see you doing alot of things, Honour, but murder? What did you do, love him to death?" She laid back on the pillows, still burning up. Kate continued with the cool cloths. "It wasn't my fault. He was never to find out." "Honour, you aren't making much sense." She took a deep breath and whispered, "I've totally screwed up my life. I have always loved foolishly. For all the wrong reasons. And the wrong men. And I had a man die in my bed." She tried to gather her strength. makine no sense as the fever was taking its toll. "All the blood. It was so awful." She looked at her hands and it was as if she could still see the blood there. "I held him. He drew his last breath in my arms. Oh, Kate! It was the worst thing to happen to me." "Honour, maybe you need to be quiet for a while.." "No! I need to tell someone! What if I die and no one here ever knew who I was. I never told a soul what really happened that night! Except Father Simon." Kate sat next to her and held her hands. "And you feel the time is right?" She took a deep breath and continued, still in fever. She whispered, "Have you ever heard the name Rhys Morgan?" Kate nodded. "The captain of the Neptune Rising. Henry Morgan's nephew. Dashing man. I met him once. Well-educated, smart and savvy. Makes berth in Tortuga." Honour's eyes filled with tears and she could barely speak. "Not any more. He's dead." "Dead? You were married to him?" She shook her head. "He's dead because he knew me." Kate listened to the gut-wrenching story of what had happened that fateful night in Beaumaris. When dawn approached, Honour's fever had broken. And she was going to live. Kate awoke from the bed she slept in next to Honour's to find her staring out the window. Softly she said, "I want to thank you, Kate. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have made it." Kate reached over and smoothed the hair back from her face and smiled. "You would have done the same for me." Honour looked down. "I did some soul-searching last night, Kate. And I came to a decision." "And what is that?" She looked up with a look of determination on her face. "The next time I bed a man, I'll demand a wedding ring first." Kate laughed. "You can say that now. But what happens when the next handsome captain walks through that door?" Honour smiled softly, "I can add Mrs. Captain to my name."

Her eyes filled with tears and she hastily wiped them away. As she stood there trying to get herself together, a crew member from the Black Rock walked by. "Honour? You alright, Miss?" She nodded. "Hello, Jenkins." She tried to get her breathing under control. "Jenkins, I'm sorry. I was attacked and he got away." "Miss! You alright? You're bleeding!" She picked up her sword or what was left of it. "Jenkins? Could you please tell me what is wrong with my sword?" Jenkins looked at it. "Miss, dinna take a swordsmith to tell me what is wrong wit' yer sword. This 'ere blade is brass. Soft metal. Never to be used for a blade." "I see. Thank you." "Miss, you want me to see you back to the tavern?" "No, Jenkins, thank you. I'll be alright." She took her bodice dagger out and ripped her cloak into strips, wrapping them around her arm and using the pieces to wipe the blood up. Jenkins stood there doubtfully. Honour managed a wan smile. "I shall be fine. Please, enjoy your night." "If yer sure, Miss.." "I am." She watched him walk away, looking back once. She gave him a self-confident wave she did not feel. She picked up the two pieces that used to be her rapier and looked at the blade. And her mind went back to the day she spent the day with Captain Faraday. Captain Adam Faraday. The captain whose credit she had ruined. Adam had stood her up one night. He claimed he had been arranging supplies for his ship but he had been seen on the arm of Molly Easley. 'Easy' Easley. A cut-rate strumpet. The next day, Honour had pretended to believe his excuse about having to take care of the ship's supplies. She allowed him to keep her company the next day. Adam had taken her to the shops on the northern side of town. A new dress, a new pair of boots....guilty compensation for taking his affections elsewhere. They had stopped at Master Campbell's while Adam had picked up his sword that was being sharpened. "Oh, Adam! I like this one!" Honour had picked up a French rapier. "But I want the brass on the blade and the steel on the hilt. To match my grommets." Adam had laughed. 'Brass is never used in a blade. Too soft. But yes, my dear, I shall order you a sword. One sword for the little lady, Master Campbell." The swordsmith grinned, "Aye....just need to size it to her petite stature. Be ready in two days." Honour gave Adam a beatific smile. The night came and Adam had expected he would be spending the night with Honour but she claimed she was indisposed that night. Adam had kissed her hand and said he would see her the next day. And the next day is when she got her revenge. She told the bootmaker she and Captain Faraday were betrothed and as a wedding gift, she could pick out any pair of boots she wanted. And what she wanted was white kid boots with a high heel. But it was to be a secret as Captain Faraday had to untangle a bit of a problem. The problem being a shrewish wife in Bristol. The story was repeated throughout the shops until Honour felt she had compensated herself for Adam's slight. Adam had spent the next night with her but she remembered him being a bit quiet in the tavern. It now became all too clear to her. Adam Faraday got even with her too. She sat down on the deck, bewildered. And she burst into tears. Was he that upset to put my life into jeopardy? She looked out and saw the Ebony Blade. She took ragged breaths and then she slowly got to her feet. She wiped the tears off her face with the cloth from her cloak. Walking down to his ship, she stealthily climbed on board. The crew must be out on the town. A light glowed in the Captain's cabin. She got out her bodice dagger and walked over to each sail. And carved her initials, HB, in each one. Quietly, she walked over to the cabin door. She stood there for a minute. Then she carved her initials in the fine wood. And dropped the two pieces of her sword in front of it. Honour climbed off the ship and walked back to the tavern. As she entered, she saw the barkeep sitting there with an ale. She stood there and said, "Amos? I think..I think I need a doctor." And fainted.

"I must say, Jonas, that is a nice sword." "Yeah. Nice indeed. Since that was all you left me with. And where are my clothes?" "I have no idea where you put them." "Don't mess with me, trollop. I'll run you through. What is one less strumpet to this place?" Honour thought quickly. He was holding her arm that she normally used to draw her rapier. "Jonas, please. I have no idea what you are talking about." "NO? I had to walk through this town wrapped in your sheets." "Really? I found it odd, yes, that they disappeared." The blade moved across her chest, leaving a faint red mark. Blood began to seep slowly out of the razor-fine cut. "Jonas, please, there is no need to get testy." "Testy? Try outraged. When the crew saw me in my boots and YOUR sheets, I would say they lost a bit of respect for me." "Well, it's not my fault you were so eager. You must have thrown the clothes and they went flying out the window." "Yeah. Right. How stupid do you think I am?" Honour gathered all her wits and flung back at him, "I don't know, Jonas, how stupid ARE you? OW!" She flinched. Another thin line began to trickle blood. He's serious now,' she thought. 'I think he is beyond reasoning.' Blood began to trickle into her chemise and stain. She remembered she was wearing new boots with really good heels. She moved quickly and ground her heel into his shin. Jonas Corwin let out a yell. At that opportunity, Honour spun around and drew her rapier out. She faced her attacker. He had his sword in position. Honour knew now that he meant business. She tried to remember everything that James Blake had taught her in those two weeks. Keep the sword out in front of your body. 'On point' he had said. She kept repeating to herself, 'Win by not losing. Concentrate on staying alive.' Like a mantra. She could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins. Jonas sneered, "You think I am to be bested by a woman?" They stood there on the docks in the moonlight. Somehow her cloak had slipped off. She whispered with all her strength and a confidence she did not feel, "I'm not just any woman, Jonas. I thought you of all people would have realized that." They cautiously circled as he attempted a thrust. She parried it. Something did not feel right. Jonas's sword glanced off her arm. Blood was drawn. This is not going well, she thought. I'll deal with it later. Something just doesn't feel right with this sword. Something not...balanced. How can that be? It was just replaced. Jonas thrust again but this time she was ready for it. She blocked it and the blade felt like it had a 'give' to it. She remembered Blake had told her to keep her opponent as far away as possible. She thrust her sword toward Jonas but he blocked it. Her blade twisted ever so slightly. 'Something is dreadfully wrong with this sword. Could it be...? No! Impossible!' She thrust again and Jonas parried. Then he swung at her sword and it caught her hilt, barely missing her hand. The blade twisted even more. Her sense of preservation was at full steam. He thrust and she parried, and the blade was giving way. She thrust once more and the blade was giving way from the hilt. At that moment, Jonas backed up. And stepped on one of the cats that lived on the wharfs. The cat screeched and sunk his claws into Jonas' leg. Jonas let out a scream and Honour saw her chance. She drew her foot back and kicked. Hard. Jonas never saw it coming. As he dropped to his knees, Honour drew her foot back once more and kicked him squarely on the chin. He fell to the ground, unconscious. She stood there gasping for breath, blood streaming down her chest and she took a cloth and tried to stem the flow of blood that was starting to gush from her arm wound. She thought fast of what to do. Reaching towards Jonas, she took his sword and pitched it into the water. She walked over and ground her heel into his hand once for good measure, hearing the bones break. He never uttered a word. He was totally knocked out. She dragged herself over to a shed, took some rope and expertly tied his hands to the dock, throwing canvas over him. She stuffed a rag in his mouth, gagging him. 'Let his crew find him. I've had enough killing in my life.'