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Port Royal, Jamaica


sirhenrymorgan

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Pinon followed close on other's heels. Cell door was hauled closed, interior falling into darkness. Lock was turned and key, safely pocketed until returned to officer on duty. Dark figured pressed onward, finally moving past slower barrister. Papers from Danish ships were poor fakes at best. Lilith would have to be released so actual documents could be found. They would be needed if Sterling actually managed to walk away a free man from his murder trial.

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It had been three days since Ioan had threatened me, and demanded a meeting. I'd ignored him, had not kept the meeting, and determined that he wouldn't get a sou of the ship's money. However, I wasn't stupid, and knew Ioan wouldn't let the issue drop. As long as the crew was in Port Royal, he'd try to find a way to get some of the gold. So far, thank God, he hadn't run to Morgan.

I checked the progress on the careening of the Rakehell and was satisfied that the ship's bottom, although covered in sea growth, was sound. What worm damage there was, could be repaired. But the smell from the rotting sea creatures which had so far been scaped from her hull and lay in heaps on the beach, would turn the stomach of a charnal-house worker.

With a kerchief tied over my mouth, and under the guise of wanting some maps, I crawled on board and double-checked the secret compartment in my cabin to make sure it had not been tampered with. It hadn't.

Africa was waiting as I stepped down the ladder which led from the canted deck to the ground. "Everythin' still safe?"

I nodded, then pulled the cloth away from my mouth. "Let's get out of here and get someting to drink. Something strong enough to burn away this smell in the back of my throat."

Africa grinned wide. "I know a good place. Dey even let you in smellin' like dat."

I rolled my eyes and followed him away from the careening yard, both of us smelling like dead shellfish.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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She soon entered McDonough’s. Even at early hour, the tavern was active with noise and laughter. Lilly quickly took a seat on a small table near the fire. A gazing eye from the bar took notice. It wasn’t every day a woman entered her tavern alone.

Silkie was surprised to see a woman of means enter alone at such an hour. She also noted the expression on the lass' face and knew it well. Something was weighing heavy on that woman, some loss no doubt. The lady needed a friend and although Silkie was new to the town she could never refuse to listen when simply sharing could relieve ones burden.

Taking a linen in hand Silkie sashayed over to the lass. "Wot ken I get-ya lass?"

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The moon shed little light on the abandoned coastline. Slowly, almost painfully so, a young man guided a small boat onto the shore. As soon as he had beached it, he went about inspecting it's old, barnacle encrusted hull and mumbling to himself.

It's been a while since I've done any maintenance, Aedon mused. She'll need a good bit of work to be fitting again.

In the distance, he noted Fort Walker, and some warehouses in the other direction.

Not the ideal place to land, old boy, he thought as he scurried up the ratlines of his single mast to remove whichever colors had been placed there the day before and raised a French flag with a small, barely perceptible hole in the center.

I believe that was the signal Jacques had mentioned. At any rate, the he's probably on the bottom of the ocean now.

Aedon settled in for the night resting against the helm with a bottle of rum and a boarding axe nearby.

-Aedon

Me mum named me Aedon.

Me mates call me Lucky.

Me enemies call me a bastard.

And anyone in a position of authority calls me

"that lucky bastard Aedon."

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Taking a linen in hand Silkie sashayed over to the lass. "Wot ken I get-ya lass?"

Lilly’s eyes gazed up at the woman for a moment. “What would I like?” Lilly says scoffing at the question. “Happier days! I curse the day I set foot in this God forsaken place.” Lilly again looked at the woman’s expression. “Very well then.” Lilly quickly dove her hand into her linen pocket. There she found several coins floating loosely there. She remembered that Hamish, the Scottish Captain was kind enough to give her some money before he parted ways with her. A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll have the stew and a pint of cider.”

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Darkness enveloped the outskirts of town as Liam and Ian polished off the last of the several bottles that they had graciously removed from the back of some unnamed inn. "Wot now?" Ian asked. "Since I 'ad t' spend our las' shilling on yer arse, y' need t' figger out wheer t' refill tha' coin purse o' ours," Liam shot back. They sat on the wharf for a moment longer looking for their victim. At this hour not many were about, and those that were had already spent their last. "D' we need t' slip aboard one o' them beauties," Ian asked as he pointed his hand around the bottle towards the large numbers of merchants and privateers in the harbor. "Mebbe. Too much werk ifin ye be askin' me though." "Less go fer a walk Liam. I saw a pub boarded up o'er by th' North end o' th docks. Mebbe somethin' we could sell an 'all 'n there." "Aye," Liam agreed.

The rum hadn't been as potent as those found in the inns by the docks and both men agreed it must have been small beer and not the liquor of their choosing. The moonlight danced on the harbor and soon they found their way to the old ordinary that had been boarded up. "Word 's a new mate 'as taken o'er this 'ere pub. 'e won't mind 's 'elpin' t' clean out th' old stores eh Liam?" Liam laughed and helped Ian pry the lumber barring the entrance to the back door.

Titim gan éirí ort.

There are many forms of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the boundaries into true corruption, into our domain.

Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you! Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver are corroded, and their corrosion will be a witness against you and will eat your flesh like fire. James 5:1-3

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Evening was setting in as Africa and I walked along the docks. The streets, busy enough during the heat of the day, were bustling as things cooled down a bit. Street hawkers gained new voice, and the foul smell of emptied chamber pots lessened.

"Where is this place you're leanding me to?" I asked the big man. "I thought you'd be off with the other lads, finding yourself a nice plump whore."

Africa snorted. "Dis man never have to pay for da sweet comforts."

I laughed. "Braggart."

"Tis honest truth. You ask de others, if you can find dem."

It ws my turn to snort. "You think they would admit it? They'd swear you have to pay double, being as you're an ex-slave."

Africa puffed out his broad chest. "I be a free man. I never pay. Dey say diff'rent, dey lie."

I grinned. "Oh, I believe you. Big strapping fellow as yourself, the ladies probably drag you off—"

I jerked at a sudden blow to my left shoulder, as if someone had taken their fist and rammed it into my flesh. The blow was followed by a searing, sharp pain that reached for my vitals and sucked my breath away. Had not Africa instantly grabbed me, I would have fallen to the street. The pain intensified. The world shifted and swayed. I was vaguely aware of Africa cursing, then jerking something away from me, which left me gasping.

"What...what is it?" I rasped, trying to get my eyes to focus.

"Knife. Some dog-eatin' coward has t'rown a knife into you."

"Ioan," I muttered, then all went black.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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"CRACK"

Lightining slashed the sky. The wind was howling and storm raged on.

"SNAP!" a yardarm had shifted with the wind and popped one of the lines holding the sail. The loose sail started to pull the ship over.

"TRY HER DOWN!!" screamed Ritter as he wrestled with the helm.

Scurried up the rigging we did, like the drowned rats we are, the lines began to give way. With a sound loader than the thunder above us, the sail unfurled, pulled taught like a drum. The ship lurched with a sudden speed. We rats in hung in the air waiting for the worst.

With the sounds of lumber breaking away, I awoke with a start, looked around my surroundings. I picked myself up to the sounds voices strained. Wondering what the hell might be going on I peeked around the corner. A figure had just taken off inside. Unwilling to want any confrontation. I kept quiet and listened for awhile.

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“I’ll have the stew and a pint of cider."

"Aye." Silkie assumed the woman meant the city not her pub. Miss McDonough sat a small earthen tumbler on the table with a resolute thump, withdrew a silver flask from her pocket, pulled the cork and poured a pungent liquid from it. "You NEED dis." she said sliding the tumbler in front of the lady locking eyes with a knowing look, her barely visible eyebrow lifted and she nodded as she corked the flask. The flask was again slid into her hidden pockets as she turned to fetch the lady's meal.

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He spent the better part of the day in town. He introduced himself to several of the local establishments and the various stores in which he would be making recurring purchases. Several shillings and a few pounds later he found himself back at the docks. With his new pistol safely in his belt and a full evenings worth of work ahead of him, Thomas moved slowly back to his ordinary, eyeing each storefront and home along the wharf. Some were ramshackle, but livable and he wondered about the history of his new tavern. A bit of work could have the doors open in less than a week.

As he passed the narow alleyway he could see one maybe two people prying their way into his stores. "Bastards," he muttered. He loaded the pistol and quietly made his way to the back door. He locked the pistol and with a shout startled the two thieves, "STEADY NOW BOYS," Thomas' hand trembled as he never had to hold the pistol to a man's head before. "Something I can help you with?"

"Nothing more excellent nor more valuable than wine was ever granted mankind by God."

-Plato

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Both of the brothers barely jumped when the man called out before turning and looking at him. Liam smirked. “Wot’s it to ya? We ain’t got a place ta stay, an this ol broken down, abandoned place. . . who’ll mind?” Both Ian and Liam now stood facing the man with the pistol. Liam kept talking and slowly moved towards him. “We ain’t no trouble, jest down on r luck for th time bein. . . just need a place ta whole up in fer a day, can ye understand that?” The man squinted at them and tool a step back. “I can understand that, but understand this, yer breakin in to MY place. . . I OWN this, broke down pub.” Liam put a shocked look on his face. “You own this ere place? Ye jus buy it then? How was we ta know? Eh, mate?”

Titim gan éirí ort.

Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

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Lucien had retreated to the solace of private garden. Accompanied by bottle of aged excellence; he had whiled away the hour's passing near regal banyan. Expression was hard-set; eyes troubled by recent event and the man responsible. It was not that he was a man of squeamish qualities; it was more that such extremes unsettled his sensibilities.

Adjusting his posture deeply within cane furnishing, chalice was balanced by stem betwixt fingers and the soft tread of footfall roused attention from current thinkings. Valet waited for acknowledgement that was given with merest indication.

"Correspondence has been delivered as you asked, Sir."

"With utmost care, I am secure in assuming....?"

"Yes Sir."

Chalice was sampled from, rich flavor rolled on tongue with appreciation then swallowed, "Cancel any pending appointments I have for this day...I do not wish to disturbed unless it is of emergency. I shall leave that to you discretion."

"Very good, sir. I shall attend to it immediately."

Valet left proximity with the same care practiced on approach, the breeze lifted to stir garden flora...And morning avian visitor reappeared on fountain's rim.

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

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"You NEED dis." she said sliding the tumbler in front of the lady locking eyes with a knowing look, her barely visible eyebrow lifted and she nodded as she corked the flask.  The flask was again slid into her hidden pockets as she turned to fetch the lady's meal.

The bite of the drink burned her throat. With a gracious nod, Mistress Lilly watched the woman smile lightly as she left to attend to the bar. Lilly’s eyes darted about the tavern. Faces of nameless sort filled the room, while some did stare back others found themselves deep in drink.

What was she going to do now? She wondered. Everything she had in her life gone. She quickly sat up straight has the bowl of stew was placed in front of her by the woman who offered her drink. “Bread?” Said the the woman has she handed her over half a loaf. With a nod Lilly took it. “Sad looking you are? What’s the matter…husband left you for a sweet heart?”

With a quivering lip, Lilly paused for a brief moment and then in one deep breath began to cry like an alley cat!

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With a sudden bolt, Remmie awoke with a start from his bed. "What the?!" Suddenly he remembered where he was and whom he was with.

"Blast!" He whispered to himself as he sat up in bed. The sandy haired whore rolled over slowly. "What is it? What is the matter?!" Remmie quickly grabbed his purse.

"It's morning and I must away. Here," he said thrusting a few coins into her hand. "now go. I must make it to the docks before 9 this morning."

The sandy haired whore threw on her petticoats. "Will I see thee again, sir?" "Not likely." He muttered as he tried to find his shoe.

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Thomas watched intently as the scene played out. He had remembered few of the drills the Company guards showed him for defense of his person. Thomas lowered the pistol. He knew his mind was much greater the weapon than the pistol ever could be. "Yes, gentlemen, she is mine." Thomas could see the demeanor on their faces change. "New to Port Royal am I," he said. "But not new to the back alleys and misgivings of cities like this the world over." He slid the pistol into his waist. "Names Thomas Neede. Now you boys look worse for wear, how about a drink?" Thomas opened his hands and offered the men the way to the front door. Anxious, he waited for their approval.

One of the men slid his hand into the small of his back and looked at the other. He shook his head "no" slightly, and the other man relaxed. "A drink? Don't mind if we do," said the more vocal of the two men. The two men followed Thomas out of Smith's alley, and to the front of the tavern. A rap to the front door and the small boy opened one of the doors. "Sah?" he said. "A couple of fellows need a drink and a bit o' help right now." The boy held the door close. A bit frustrated with the lack of cooperation with his helper he deepened his tone, "YOU wouldn't want to have to clean this place up yourself would you Sully?" "No sah," said the boy. He scrambled to the bar and tried to dust off a few seats for the men. Without a word Sully ran into the back room and and was able to find a few bottles left by the previous owner. Upon return, Thomas had opened both doors to reveal a beautiful view of the harbor and across the way, Salt Pond Hill and the Apostles battery. As the men stood in the doorway and on the small porch, Edward Sullivan handed each man a bottle and Thomas his personal tankard. Sully filled his Master's cup and quickly replaced the cork. "Do you gentlemen think you could assist me in this venture currently?" They looked at each other and squinted. Thomas knew his flourishes would not wage the same weight as they did on the Governor's agent. He cleaned his glasses with a small handkerchief and corrected himself. "Would you like to work for me boys?"

"Nothing more excellent nor more valuable than wine was ever granted mankind by God."

-Plato

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Nora was at a loss “Oh, Miss I …now, now, I…” she didn’t know how her new employer would react to this outburst at her table “Kent be all that bad.” Then the woman at the table began to wail even more. “Oh, Miss, there, there” Nora wasn’t sure what to do. Miss McDonough swept over to the table. Nora opened her mouth to explain when Silkie smiled a softly at Nora and shook her head indicating no words were needed and then dismissed the young girl. The poor Miss was clearly beyond being consoled for the moment and Silkie couldn’t have a hysterical woman in the common room other patrons would soon uncomfortable. “Miss, I nil know wot is greivin ya so but I’m tinkin ya may wont t’finish yer meal in private. Care t’use one uv d’back rooms?” Silkie lifted the meal to her tray, and lead her to one of the small private rooms. The lady followed, trying to control her outbursts but their walk was still punctuated with loud sobs.

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Since arriving at the Royal Grace, Lady Violet was forced to endure disapointment after disappointment. Her usual room overlooking the street wa already occupied by a rude gentlemen who refused to give it up, and who had slammed the door in her face when she had attempted to explain the gravity of his error. If that were not bad enough, Mr. Spindlethorpe was on the verge of nervous collapes, babbling on about raving Scots, shifty Spaniards, and a near riot in his kitchen, which had caused his cook to run screaming from the building.

The final straw was, due to the fact that the inn was full, she found herself in the appalling situation of having to share her room with her husband. Insted of going to his club, Albert had descended on the Royal Grace and jokingly referred to their shared sleeping arrangement as a "nice little love nest, to be sure."

To give herself fortitude to endure all this unpleasantness, she imbibed a quantity of Irish whiskey, which Spindlethrp's servant had placed before her straight away on her arrival.

Albert appeared in night cap, embroidered slippers with turned-up toes and tassels, and a short sleeping gown, beneath which his knobby knees looked white as turkey legs. He gave her a grin and said, "Coming to bed, dear?"

Lady Violet slugged down a large dose of whiskey, gave a shudder, and resigned herself to her wifely duty.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Grabbing hat and gloves, Remington quickly left his lodgings to make his way to the warehouse district. He darted about the heavily trafficked streets of Port Royal trying desperately to make his appointment on time. As he dodged between carts and wheelbarrows; all he could hear rambling in his head was the very stern tone of his Father constantly berating him for his lack of punctuality.

He winced for a moment, almost tripping over a young girl hawking quinces. “Damn creature!” He muttered as he regained his composure. In the last block of his journey, he suddenly became aware that he over exerted himself. The warm tropical climate made it unsuitable for his attire of silks. As he entered the clerk’s office, an elderly gentleman looked up from his ledger. Remington’s glance to the clerk was cut short as he pulled his lace handkerchief from his pocket. The evidence of perspiration now showed across his brow and lip. “I have an appointment with Master Dev…” “You’re late.” Snapped the elderly man. “Wait here…I’ll let him know you are here.”

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"Do you gentlemen think you could assist me in this venture currently?" They looked at each other and squinted. Thomas knew his flourishes would not wage the same weight as they did on the Governor's agent. He cleaned his glasses with a small handkerchief and corrected himself. "Would you like to work for me boys?"

Liam looked at Ian and grabbed the pocket of his coat. It was very light, only two coins were within and only one was of gold. "Werk fer ye? Depends on what ye mean by tha'. . ." He nodded his head to the side. "We could go inside an' talk o' such tings. Set down fer our drink." Thomas looked at the two men and held out a hand to usher them inside. He let the brothers go in first and followed them to where they sat. Both Liam and Ian opened the bottled given them and took a long pull on them. Liam wiped his mouth on is sleeve. "So, Master Neede, wot is it that yer proposin'?" Ian looked at his brother and then at The new owner of the tavern they now sat in.

Titim gan éirí ort.

Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

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Trilby hunched over his desk, carefully measuring. To the side was a small contraption of vials, glass tubing, funnels, and evaporation globes. Under one of the vials an oil lamp burned with an intense blue flame. On a piece of smudged parchment were scribbled dozens of arcane figures and symbols. Trilby leaned a bit and consulted the book he'd been studying.

"Ummm...axionmes of maturation...temperate heat...tangible parts...not subsultorily...to the tenth part..." He added a drop more to the measurement beaker.

A sound like a battering ram hitting his front door made him jerk, dropping the beaker. Beads of quicksilver jumped around his desk like luminous fleas. "What in God's bloody teeth was that?"

Another crash had Trilby rushing to the foyer. Souris opened the door. A black giant filled the empty space revealed. In his arms was a limp figure which Trilby recognized at once.

"Oh no. yea'll nae bring that she-witch in tae mae house! If she's drunk, take her back tae your ship, or dump her in an alley, makes nae matter tae me!"

The black giant pushed his way into the house. Souris scurried to hide within the folds of Trilby's robe. Trilby jutted out his bearded chin. "Can yea nea understand the King's English? Be gone, and take that drunken hussy with yae!"

The giant stepped further into the room. "She not drunk. Some dog-eating coward threw a knife into her."

Trilby then noticed the blood on the black man's hands, and the crimson stain running down the woman's left sleeve. With a resigned curse, Trilby pointed to the study. "Put her on the cot." Then he turned to his servant. "Souris, stoke up the kitchen fire and put some water on to boil. Then fetch mae needles and thread."

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She was awakened by a clattering of noise out side. Pulling back the voluptuous bed curtains, Jolliet grabbed for the silk cord next to the bed. She pulled it with a sharp tug and waited for her maid to enter the room. Pushing her long auburn red hair back from her face she sat up in bed. Jolliet did not have long to wait. Molly, her faithful and trusted maid, came in to the room bearing a tray ladened with biscuits, honey and hot chocolate.

The aroma filled the air and Jolliet’s stomach reminded her that she had not eaten since yesterday’s lunch. Pushing back the heavy covers she got out of bed and sat down on the couch next to the table where Molly had placed the tray.

“Will, you be wantin’ any thing else, M’Lady?” Molly asked as she pulled back the curtains letting in rays of sunshine.

Jolliet did not answer right away. She was comptenplating her newly found escape from England. The room was gloriously decorated in a variety of shades of blue. “Hmmm, Molly, I think I would like a bath. I feel absolutely bedraggled after my long trip. Oh, and please pull out my robbin egg blue dress.”

“Aye, M’Lady. I will send the footman up with hot water for ye bath.” With that Molly excited the room momentarily to give instruction to the staff below.

After pouring her self a cup of hot chocolate she leaned back on to the couch relaxing and enjoying the flavor of the drink.

Molly soon returned holding a missive in her hand, “This just arrived M’Lady”, she said as she handed the letter over to Jolliet.

Jolliet broke the seal and began to read, “Oh, Bloody Hell!” she exclaimed. Her new found peace was soon to be shattered.

"Why condemn me for taking a Lover with out marriage while you do so in marriage and break sacred vows?"

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Cold hands about his face, brought heavy lids to a slight flutter... then they opened slowly and looked upward into the dim light of a lantern.

"Been out for two days you have," a voice announced. The sound seemed to ricochet about Sterling's skull causing the throbbing to increase and send him rolling onto his side, innards reeling from it.

"There now, have a care!" Came the voice again. "Wouldn't have even noticed the state you are in, cept you haven't touched yer food, but then I can't blame you there." A low chuckle, far more nervous then honestly amused, followed quickly.

"Here now, someone's done given you a proper thrashing. Mr. Pinon, I would hazard to guess. Send for a doctor I would, but I am not permitted to do so. Still, I could no longer let you just lay here."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Thomas stood and went to close the doors. He told the boys of his plan. Thomas had made a few contacts throughout his travels and needed to call on them presently. The two boys nodded. He wasn't sure of how much to tell the two men, so he left it at that. Thomas went to the bar and called for Sully. He sent the boy next door for a loaf of bread and some cheeses. Thomas returned to the table gave the men a fresh bottle. "Gentlemen, excuse me but a moment. I need to pen some messages for your trip." The twins looked at each other and smiled. He excused himself and said that Edward would be back momentarily with some light victuals. Thomas went to the back room and removed a worn ledger from the desk. He leafed through the dogeared pages until he found the names and titles of the men he needed. "Excellent," he said to himself.

"Nothing more excellent nor more valuable than wine was ever granted mankind by God."

-Plato

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**

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

ClaudeDuval.jpg

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