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Port Royal, Jamaica


sirhenrymorgan

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Her eyes just caught sight of the Sterling as he collapsed to the floor with a hard thunk.

Partial instinct told her to run to the man's aid. But now was not the time for bringing attention to one's self even if her attire was a bit elaborate.

Her eyes watched Morgan a moment, the body of the unconscious man at his feet...

then traced her eyes to what body the voice belonged to that shouted his name moment's before... spotting the lass who was passenger aboard her ship. Miss Lilly.

"Interesting," she simply stated, placing her elbows on the table, her fingers forming a tent as her chin rested upon her thumbs, the forefingers against her lips. Pondering and assessing the situation.

Tempt Fate! an' toss 't all t' Hell!"

"I'm completely innocent of whatever crime I've committed."

The one, the only,... the infamous!

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Sterling turned once more, shivering violently,  to look about for the fair owner of the voice he knew all too well,  then, suddenly, he crumbled and fell to the tavern floor....

Lilly screamed in horror as she saw the Captain hit the floor. "John!" She quickly ran to his side. As she knelt down and took his head into her lap she felt his forehead. "He's burning!" She quickly looked up at Sir Morgan. "Make Haste! Send for a physician!"

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"Very interesting indeed," with chin still on the thumbs, fingers against the lips, raising a brow with a slight smirk upon those wicked lips.

Watching the scene as it played before her eyes.

Tempt Fate! an' toss 't all t' Hell!"

"I'm completely innocent of whatever crime I've committed."

The one, the only,... the infamous!

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She quickly looked up at Sir Morgan. "Make Haste! Send for a physician!"

Lilly looked about the Pub. Once a crowded and rowdy place, now stood dead silence. Lilly looked back up at Sir Morgan. "Please, help him!" She whispered. Morgan quickly stepped back from the Captain's body. "Pray Sir, what is wrong?" Again Lilly asked. The crowd in the Pub soon look anxious and very nervous.

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I stood aghast as the man I had just summoned collapsed beside me. A comely lass was by his side and asked me to summon a physician.

Someone fetch Mr. Jonas P. Stenbom immediately. This man needs assistance.

He looked over at the man in the corner. You, Mr. Treate. Get the physician immediately, I say. Or so help me I will run you through.

Treate jumped to his feet and dashed out the door, obeying Sir Henry's bequest.

Helpless he was in these matters. For often he was more in need of such care rather than giving it.

"Land only holds promise if men at sea have the courage to fight for it."

- Sir Henry

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Not wishing to rile the Admiral any further and being a good soldier, I followed his order. I let my bottle half finished and made my way through the crowd to the door, pushing drunks and whores aside to make haste.

I stepped once again into the street and made my way down High Street, to the Goat and Compasses. I had seen his advertisement in the local sheet. In contrast to the overcrowded Three Crownes, the Goat and Compasses was fairly empty. I made my way to the back of the building, then bounded up the stairs to the doctor's room.

I knocked. Mr. Jonas P. Stenbom answered.

Your services are needed immediately at the Three Crownes. A man there is in need of attention. He's fainted. Sir Henry hisself sent for you.

I left the doctor to ready himself and headed back to the tavern. I hoped no one had finished my rum for me. I cared not so much for the well being of the man who now lay on the floor - it was the rum I cared for.

I entered the Three Crownes and reported to all that the good doctor was on his way.

Sir Henry looked pleased at my quick action. He nodded to me as I returned to my rightful place in the inn.

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A very nice crowd tonight in the tavern.

Everything suddenly goes silent after the collapse of a man. Orders are given and people start rushing about. Looks like it's taken care of, I will go on about my drinking and then maybe take my new found male friend for a night at the inn.

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Lilly was horrified by the turn of events. As she sat, cradling her old lover's head in her lap, she saw a man approach. Claiming to be the harbour master, he quickly suggested that Sterling be carted off to a room. An argument then commenced between the owner of the tavern and the harbour master that the sick man was not welcome there.

"He can have my room," Lilly said.

"I haven't given you yer room yet!" the tavern owner snapped at the young girl.

"Well I think it be best you give the lady her room now, " the harbour master interjected. "I have to put a quarantine on ye now any how, seeing how the gentleman collapsed in your establishment. You best put out your best drink and food for a while... to keep folks happy until the Mr. Stenbom arrives and gives you all permission to disburse."

"The bloody hell I will!" The owner shouted. "I did not ask this fella here and certainly..."

The harbour master looked at the owner hard. "Shut you down will I on a more permanent basis if you don't comply. Which ship is he from?" he added looking down at Lilly.

"The Archangel," the actress replied.

"Very well then. We shall have her quarantined as well," he turned to Morgan. "Sir Henry, I suggest you be making your way home and handsomely at that, until I know more from the doctor. If enough hands of the Archangel be about town, I may have to speak to the Governor about closing the port."

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Sitting there listening and watching the turn of events. And it appeared to be getting worse.

Raising a brow, and thinking to self, forced to remain in port over a man who collapsed in a tavern?

Apparently it wasn't settling well with her. Debating whether to interceed or not. She REALLY did not want to be noticed... however, the Harbour Master was starting to annoy her and infringe upon her freedom.

"If I may be so bold," she began... standing up, and slowly making her way towards the Harbor Master in a graceful stride-

"Have you severe reason to keep every soul here and close port, making every person in Port Royal suffer including the financial loss caused by such a hasty decission. For all we know.. the man could simply have become overwhelmed with the heat."

Coming up opposite of Morgan, next to Lilly. Glancing down at the Lady, then at Sterling. "He's pale and obviously not well, but why keep him here in the tavern where it's an enclosed area? No, Sir, I think it wiser to take this man to his ship until the Doctor gives sufficiant reason to quarantine. Assure that NO ONE goes to the ship, with a few guards on watch."

"Water," she nodded to the Innkeep. Who was dumbfoundedly gawking at her. "Now," she bit out a little roughly.

The man complied.. as he attempted to get it in a bucket and no so clean. Rolling her eyes, "Fresh, drinking water... make sure it's at least cool enough," she growled at the man. Obviously they'd not delt with a man who's passed out properly enough.

Finally a lass gave her a tankard with good drinking water.

Kneeling down, putting a wee little bit in the palm of her hand, she then slowly wiped it over Sterling's face. Handing Sterling's hat to to man, "Fan him with his hat," and the poor man stood there a moment before he started to fan Sterling.

"Standing here arguing what to do doesn't help a man who needs assistance now," she grumbled. "Actions speak louder than words." as she used the water again to slowly dampen his face and neck.

Looking up at the Harbor Master, "Well? You going to assure that there is fresh air in this establishment and not so crowded? Or are you going to ensure that this man dies?"

Her eyes glanced briefly to Morgan. God help her now. But, if her act for at least saving a man of honor... perhaps... she won't be so condemned.

Tempt Fate! an' toss 't all t' Hell!"

"I'm completely innocent of whatever crime I've committed."

The one, the only,... the infamous!

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Sitting on the edge of lovely Colleen's bed, Beckwith buckled on his shoes and pulled on the shin-high leggings meant to keep the sand out of a Marine's shoes. Colleen stirred next to him. He wondered about the barmaid, one of the few women in town who was not a whore. "You've never told me, lass, how you came to be in Port Royal, all alone..."

In a lilting Irish accent, Colleen O'Donnell explained:

"Me da managed an estate in County Clare, and after me ma died, he had an offer to oversee a plantation in Virginia, in the colonies. We sailed from Galway, near to two an' a half years past, now. Our ship was damaged in a storm, and went down, me da with it. Meself an' a few of th' crew were blessed by th' Almighty an' saved by another ship, Jamaica bound. Tom Finne, th' owner of th' Three Crownes, took pity on me, an' gave me well-respectin' work. Someday, maybe, I'll get to Virginia. I was to be a maid for th' plantation owner's children. If ya don' mind me askin', Thomas, how does a Scotsman come to be in th' English service?"

Beckwith stiffened. "My father found it more profitable to work with the English, rather than fight them at every turn. I find the same logic to apply. Prize money is abundant for officers of His Majesty's Sea Service. Perhaps I'll win my fortune in battle, and return home to Scotland one day. Until then, I'll serve honourably. That is all anyone needs know."

Beckwith finished dressing, stood, and examined his uniform in the small mirror on Colleen's night table, a gift to her from Beckwith; he had taken it as a prize after he had led his men on a bloody boarding of a French warship.

"Ya look fine, sir. Fine, indeed," Colleen pronounced, as she handed Beckwith his sword. Beckwith fastened the weapon to his frog, and headed for the door to Colleen's small, but neat, room. He paused, looking back. "The 'Crownes draws a lot of unsavory folk. Pirates and cut-throats. And word has it the Spanish may have spies about, planning an attack in retaliation for Sir Henry's exploits. Be careful, bonny lass. I'll call on you again, if it suits you?"

Beckwith returned to the tavern, where he saw Morgan beginning to speak with several captains of the privateer ships. Beckwith joined the group, waiting to hear Morgan's plans, and awaiting any orders...

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(I know I am a little behind in story line, please humor me a little back up... and I'll bring my story right up with everyone elses... with a few changes from where it was being taken by others.)

I wanted to keep an eye on Morgan. But Lady Barbossa wanted to return to her ship. I humored her a bit, tapping my fingers on the pilling as she went below deck. She returned to the surface in mens clothing.

I looked at her in Disbelief, ' Unacceptable', I muttered.

I shook my head as she came up the dock. "I believe this it where we will be parting our ties. I thought you said you had no desire to be dangling on a rope. While I appreciate and respect your gender and status, showing yourself like this on shore, is like raising your black colors here and now. I have no room for someone who wishes to become a target for the gallows. "

With that, I turned on my heel and made my way to the tavern in haste, hoping I was keeping a good distance ahead of her, and all the while working out how to lessen my 'connection' to her.

Upon entering the tavern I made my way to the bar and ordered a tankard full. I would need a bit tonight to help me get through the uncomfortable conversations that I was sure would come this night.

A few minutes later she entered and took her place in a corner table.

Luckily there was not much time for a reaction to her new attire, because just moments later Capt. Sterling collapsed to the floor in front of us.

My instinct was to run to him and try to aid him, but there were others already doing that and I need not draw unnecessary attention.

Admiral Morgan yelled to a man sitting next to me to hunt down the physician. He left, leaving a more than half full bottle or rum unattended. In the ensuing chaos I slid to the chair closest his, poured enough of his rum to refill my tankard, put it back in it's place and moved back to my original seat.

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Still arguing the harbour master and the tavern owner took up Sterling by hands and feet and carted him off to a room toward the back of the inn. For a moment, everyone in the tavern breathed easier.

Without the aid of the doctor, Sterling soon slipped into a coma...


"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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Having been released from the Three Crownes after that little drama...

Ana returned to the Resurrection.

Seated in the Cabin in her chair, swirling around a glass of whiskey, the bottle on the table... she pondered.. or at least tried to.

A sad little port...busy as hell but sad.

Drinking the rest of the whiskey in the glass, setting the glass down... taking hold of the bottle as she got up... drinking from the bottle... pondering some more as she paced about.

Corking the bottle of whiskey and returning it to the cabinet where she drew it from.

Sauntering to the double doors and made her way out onto the main deck... looking around to see only a couple gents on watch... looking up to see Moultrie.

"Ahh... good," as she faced the man on the quarter deck.

"Mr. Moultrie-"

He looked down and spotted her.. coming up to the rail, "Oui?"

"Inform Graves in due time where ever he be, that we leave my mid morning. Best to be rid of this hell hole." she informed him.

"O'v cou'ze, mon Capitane," the man replied.

"Good man," with that she withdrew back into her cabin but not without a brief glance over the dim lights of the port.

Back in her cabin.. she withdrew to her bunk, beridding her body of all articles of clothing and slipping on a thin chemise for sleeping in.

Off to bed she went, with the netting around to keep what bugs were about out.

Tempt Fate! an' toss 't all t' Hell!"

"I'm completely innocent of whatever crime I've committed."

The one, the only,... the infamous!

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The patrons in the tavern quickly began to diagnose Captain Sterling's illness as he was removed to the billets above the inn. Unfortunately, such sickness was a natural part of the landscape. The tropics were a breeding ground for the most horrid of diseases and maladies.

Still I was saddened to see him fall so ill. My plans to add his ship to our fleet to help replace the guns on the Oxford were now in disarray. I had planned to ask him to come to the council tonight and plot our next adventure together.

I had gained nothing and lost little fortunately. I would turn to my old network of buccaneer captains to protect Jamaica until word of Captain Sterling. Fortunately, there was always a steady supply of stout lads in port to fill the ranks of the ships we had available.

I decided to ask Major Beckwith to come to the War Council, as he had a reputation as a fine strategist in land campaigns. But I never got the chance. Noting my presence, he had come to my table without a formal invite, obviously sensing there was something afoot.

I invited him to sit down with us. And I motioned for a few others in the tavern to join me as the body of Captain Sterling was carried from the tavern by his crewe.

-- Sir Henry

"Land only holds promise if men at sea have the courage to fight for it."

- Sir Henry

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The tavern festivities wound down as I watched Capt. Sterling slip into a coma and be carried out for bed rest to recover. Shame, I never even had a chance to speak to the man. Hopefully the doc can bring him around.

I continued my drink as Admiral Morgan and others began to assemble at a table near the other end of the bar. I stood... milled about the room a bit, then reapproached the bar closer to their position and ordered another round. I sat while waiting for my drink, and for the conversation to begin, thinking I should be able to hear enough of the talk to sort out what was going on.

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And I motioned for a few others in the tavern to join me as the body of Captain Sterling was carried from the tavern by his crewe. -- Sir Henry

After the crew of the Archangle collected Captain Sterling, Lilly followed suit from the tavern. As she walked upon the deck, the men whispered between themselves. Surely, this was not a good sign. It was bad enough that their Captain was dying, but now to have that woman upon their ship...only more sorrow would come of it. The Captain had already had his heart broken by this woman, not once but twice, and the crew knew that she would only give him more heartache.

Down below the decks in the Captain's Quarters Lilly sobs quietly over the body of Captain Sterling. She trys to make him as comfortable as possible. "Please Captain." She whispers as she wipes is pale brow with water. "Ye are going to be just fine. "

First Mate Andrew March enters the Captain's quarters with the physician. "There is talk about towne that this man may have brought the plague to Port Royal. " Lilly's eyes widen. "No, it cannot be!" She looked over at Andrew March with deep concern. "He was fine when he left England seven months ago!" The physician began to inspect his arms, legs, belly and neck for the small rosey rings upon his body. "If he has the plague no one is safe.

Lilly looks back at the physician. "He cannot die. I shall pay you what ever you wish...just save him!" From her pocket she pulls a large gold broach laiden heavy with pearls. "Here...take it! It's all I have of the moment. I'll get more, please just save him." The Physician looks down at the bobble. "I am not even sure he has the plague yet, Mistress. Let us see if we can first find out what the matter is with him. But until then...no one leaves this ship!"

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As the lads gathered around the table, I turned to my most trusted captains who were awaiting their orders.

In my younger days, I would have simply issued them. But now that I commanded a fleet at will, that involved all their ships and their charges, I opted to follow a different tack for a change.

I'm glad you could all gather here on such short notice. As you know, the Oxford lies at the bottom of the sea. She was to be our flagship on our next raid against the Spanish. We had a grand plan, one I'd like to share with you all.

Lads, I propose an attack on Portobelo, the richest city in all of the Americas. She holds vast wealth for the boldest of men to seize at will. We will sail in a large fleet of vessels and attack the Spanish dogs head on in the port. We will take their gold, silver and treasure and bring them to their knees.

Captain Brenningham interrupted. "But Admiral. The city is well protected with much three heavily armed fortifications. How do you propose that we attack a city so well protected with a fleet of this size?"

Good question, sir. And one I have yet to answer. No matter what ruse we use we can be fairly certain that the entire Spanish Navy will take chase of us. They will want to sink us as we stand. They are stupid, but brave. And they will fight us, no doubt.

As you know, I have met the Spanish before on the land and on the sea. They are well organized, but in the old ways of fighting. There lies their weakness. They are used to fighting campaigns of a hundred years ago, not a modern battle. We will outflank them with daring and bravery. We will outgun them with our rifles and sharpshooting. And we will watch them die one by one on their own flag.

Which of you are with me, eh? Who will go with me to Portobelo?

I turned to Major Beckwith before an answer was sounded. You good sir. You're a fighting man are you not? I knew your father well and am glad he sends his regards. I trust that you are at least half the man your father was?

If so, I will ask that you help me command the land campaign. As for the rest of you, are you in or out?

"Land only holds promise if men at sea have the courage to fight for it."

- Sir Henry

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As I listened in to the conversation I could not hear everything

clearly... but I could hear the words I needed to....raid...Spanish.... richest city... Wealth....

I also heard something about the Spanish being brave...fighting... want to sink us... but my mind kept going back to those first so important words... richest city and wealth. I wanted to be a part of this and as I was thinking of how to work my way into this group of brave souls, I leaned back a little more than I should have and fell onto the ground at the feet of the men gathered for thier meeting.

They all looked down at me...

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"Sir Henry, my sword is yours. I've led men in battle, both on land and at sea. It would be my honor to join you. My Marines also stand ready to fight. They are well trained in shipboard gunnery, land tactics, and are all excellent marksmen..."

Beckwith looks over the few scraps of notes and charts Morgan has laid out. Hm, Portobello, Beckwith thought to himself... a fortune to be won, indeed. And glory for any who should risk themselves in this venture. A test of military skill, if ever there was one.

And, a chance to finally prove his worth to his father.

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Now lads. We must keep this quite among ourselves. Not a word to your men or your officers. Surprise is ours if we can keep this secret. We will sail from Port Royal and not unveil our plan until we are well at sea.

We have work to do. Captains, begin to outfit your ships for sea duty. Make sure your loaded well with shot and powder. Additional stores of guns can be found in the King's Storehouse. The Customs Collector will be there to assist you as needed. Prepare softly - we don't want anyone to catch wind of our bold plan.

Major Beckwith, I invite you to meet with me on the morrow with the Governor. I must apprise him of the plan and implore him to execute some proper paperwork for the expedition. Must always ensure that we do things correctly around here... eh, Major?

Suddenly, there was a thud. I lept from the table, drawing my sword as I rose. I quickly noticed the source of the sound. There for the second time in an hour, someone lay sprawled across the floor of the Three Crownes.

What is the meaning of this sir? I asked the man. Are you in a drunken stupor or just a clumsy oaf. Explain yourself now...

"Land only holds promise if men at sea have the courage to fight for it."

- Sir Henry

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Decisions, decisions.... I had a split second to decide whether I wanted to be honest, or play off the cumsy oaf option. The clumsy oaf option was an easy one, and would get me out of harms way, but also could put me at a disadvantage for a position in the mission to come. So as painful as it may be, I must go with honesty...for the most part.

"The truth, sir, is bit of each. While I do have moments of clumsiness, I must admit part of this scene is due to my attempts to listen in on your conversation."

His face showed he was not humored.

"Please, if you will, hear me out. I heard your call to action in the church. Being of English blood and having served my time for my country, I wanted to learn more. For that reason, I followed you to the tavern. I was not invited to your table, for obvious reasons, and I am not of a status where I could invite myself " , I looked over at the Major, "So, I found myself sitting here, overhearing some bits of your conversation. I wish to serve you, sir, if you have a role for me."

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Rudd Worthylake

Thornbures House, Suffolk

Dearest Brother,

It gave me the greatest pleasure to find your letter waiting for me in Boston. I had not known if my letters to you had made the long journey home. Home. How strange that word seems to me now. How long has it been since last I was there? In trueth, so much has happened to me in those two years, it feels more like a hundred.

Do you write in secret? I know our father would toss my letters into the fire if he knew we were corresponding. Yet, had he not paid my ransom in false coin, I would never have known this vagabond life. The captain who held me gave me the name False Ransom as a jest, thinking to shame me as he put me to work. It is the name I go by now, so as to bring no shame to our family.

As I wrote you, I have my own ship now. A fine schooner, The Rakehell. She's sleek and quick as a cat, and more home to me than ever that pile Thornbures was. I only hope you can escape from under father's thumb someday and sail with me. It is a dangerous life, but a free one.

I must also tell you that I have taken on a new first mate, as old Mica fell to some fever while we were in Boston. A fine man named Ioan, of a Welsh family. He joined the crewe in Charles Town. I should rather say he escaped with us, as he was in much haste to depart. He has not relayed to me the whole of the tale, but it doesn't signify. We are all escapees on board. Besides, I find this black-haired handsome devil my equal in intellegence and wit, and our sparing contests are becoming legend with the rest of the crewe. Yet, he is smart enough to know, woman or no, I am still the Captain. That is the great thing about the sea. A woman can make her own way, instead of being married off and used as a broodmare by her husband, until wornout into an early grave.

I sail to Port Royal next, hoping to find safe harbor for a time. Henry Morgan is governor there, and since he has plied the trade, mayhap he will be tollerant to those who still do. We are in such sore need of supplies, due to our quick departure from Charles Town, that even the rats look hungry. The last ship we took was nothing more than a poor fishing boat, and they had little to spare. We took what fish they had caught, a little rum, and stripped the boat of her sails to use as spares, but we let the crew go.

If you would reach me, send your letters to Port Royal. And if you can spare it, I would be most grateful if you could forward also some coin. I have but a little left, and until I put to sea again, and can find a more worthy ship to take, I will be hard pressed to pay for victualing the ship.

I remain your loving sister,

Ransom

From on board the Rakehell

Three days out from Charles Town

...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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He opened his eyes and sat up.... slowly. It was dark and as he shifted someone else, close by, stirred as well. "Who is there?" he said. His voice harsh, seemed to stick in his throat, his mouth dry.

"Lay back and rest easy," came a woman's voice. "I shall pour you some more of Robert Talbor's Secret Remedy. I've a bit more opium left until the morning. A minute. I must first tend to some light."

Sterling, taking the woman's advice gently lowered himself back down onto the mattress.

"How long this time?" he asked.

"Long enough. According to Mr. March, longer than usual," came the reply.

"Mr. March? Skittles?" he asked, no longer able to place the voice

He blinked, his eye sight faltering as a candle was brought to bare next to him. He closed his eyes for a moment longer, hoping to see clearer when he looked about himself again. He knew he was on the 'Angel. He was all too familiar with the feel and sounds of his ship. And yet, there were no other women onboard save for the first officer's wife.

He looked up and felt himself grow suddenly tense, his heart pounding in his chest. "You? But how...."


"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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I returned to my beloved bottle of rum. The Admiral had gathered his minions around him and was speaking in somewhat hushed tones. I could only hear the assignations of his desires from those gathered at the table. One of the majors from the fort had joined the discussion... strange I thought, the Admiral doesn't usually work with the more King's officers. He usually prefers his own captains and network of buccaneers.

But the loss of the Oxford called for desperate measures.

I wondered where they would be heading this time. Thankfully, I would soon find out regardless. As one of the better gunners on the spit, I would have my choice of duty with any captain in port.

I picked up my bottle of rum for another swig. Funny, it felt about half empty and I had just started drinking before the man fell to the floor and I was called away. My mind must be playing tricks on me, I thought. Perhaps it was muddled by drinking that much rum and not recalling it.

I was happily glancing an eye at a lovely maiden when I heard the second thud of the evening. A man had fallen flat at the feet of Admiral Morgan and his charges. Morgan clearly was not pleased as he call out the man to see what purpose he had of falling to the ground before him.

The man quickly explained his plight. As his voice rose to defend his behaviour, I overheard him say to the Admiral, "I wish to serve you, sir, if you have a role for me."

I laughed to myself and thought back to when I turned to the black trade. I was in a very similar position, though mine was from a drunken stupor.

Things should get lively around here soon, I thought. No matter what the Admiral is up to I'm sure it will be a bold plan and one set out against the Spanish no doubt.

The lovely maiden seemed to approach me. I smiled, inviting with the nod of my head to join me at the table.

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